#I've found a place near where I live with like

[queen-scribbles]

Okay, so. In the spirit of that 'letting people be there for you' post I reblogged earlier, here's a personal update I was really, really, REALLY hoping I wouldn't have to make.

(before anyone gets worried, it's not me, I'm okay as circumstances allow, but family health stuff under the cut)

My mom's been fighting cancer for the past eight years. There was a one year remission in there after the initial discovery and treatment before it came back, so this round has been six years. She's moved though different chemo-lite medications like ibrantz etc, had to switch to actual chemo just before Thanksgiving 2023. And it was working. The lesions were shrinking and disappearing, it was going away. Until this past September. When it was discovered that the stupid fucking cancer had migrated to her bones. So they switched chemo cocktail. Found out just before this Christmas it wasn't working. She had several multi-day hospital stays between November and December, the last of which was over a week, starting Dec. 23, so we wound up not having Christmas until she came home on new year's.

There isn't anything else that will work. So she transitioned to hospice home care, oncologist was talking in terms of months to live. I'll spare you all the medical details, but we're talking multiple tumors, fluid buildup around her lungs(Dad's been draining that p much daily), on oxygen, all that.

This morning she woke up super confused, my aunt who's visiting to help called the home care nurse, it could be next stage transition for end of life, could be just she took too much of a medication last night. I had some errands to run, not much good I can do at home, so I go do that, praying super fucking hard it's the medication one. Come back to the update NOPE the nurse thinks it's the next stage end of life. Now, barring a miracle, we're talking days. Maybe a couple weeks if we're lucky.

I just

My parents are great. They've always been loving and encouraging and supportive and our family is all super close and this sucks. It sucks so much. Stupid fucking bullshit cancer.

I've been hoping one of the treatments would work. That she'd go back in remission and get more time. She just turned sixty, for crying out loud. Normally there'd be another 20 years before we had to worry about losing her, she'd get to watch Starfish grow up, see any other grandkids that come along.

I feel like I should apologize for keeping all this to myself for so long and then dropping an update like this, but in a weird way I liked having somewhere where that wasn't a known part of my life? So I had somewhere I wasn't always being asked about it and having to think about it and this has always been my fandom/escapist place so it made sense to my brain to not mention it. I was meaning to say something when we got the 'months to live' news, but I've been dragging my feet. Don't feel like I can drag them any more.

I just wanted y'all to know what's up with me if I go quiet for a few days, or there's less writing, or--as I suspect will happen--there's a near-manic amount more and it's all fix-it, fluff, and fuck-it-eucatastrophe-time type stuff. I feel like I'm gonna use fic to cope; I can't fix real life but I can fix my characters' lives.

I love my mom and I'm worried about my dad(he's been joking for twenty years he doesn't know what he'll do if she goes first and well. fuck cancer) and I hate this. so. much.

[spritesitrus]

Hey! Could we know the childhood of a Koopaling? When I saw that they had a difficult time I was curious about how they had it… I love your art!!

After a long time, I've finally got this one done and thank ya! Here's a doodle of everyone altogether that I never got around finishing

By the time Bowser had taken all the Koopalings in, all of them were orphans except Roy and Morton(whose dad is still alive).

I did have designs for some of their bio family members. (First two pictures Lem's family, 3rd image is Wendy's mom and grandma, 4th/5th images are Roy/Mort's parents. For those who aren’t here it’s simply because they don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.)

So this is gonna be both their life before and how they join the Koopa Troop. These are all individual stories I was actually writing out to draw as a comic but for the sake of this post, it’s all condensed into brief summaries. (Though I’ll share some of the writing I did for some)

Going into everyone's individual backstories

Lud

Ludwig was left behind at an orphanage since he was born and it's unknown why or where the whereabouts of his parents are. Ludwig himself has never been interested in finding out who his birth parents are since he's figured it's not worth any trouble trying to search for people who've abandoned him.

He ran away from his orphanage at the age of seven and now on his own, he only had his smarts to survive and turned to a life of crime to survive. He's learned that he can only trust himself and to never show any vulnerability to anyone no matter how hard things get. For the next three years, he then became known as an infamous criminal known to rob big organizations and never get caught because none of his plans have ever failed. Though he bites off more than he could chew and gets roped in by a Monty Mole gang to make a plan to steal treasure from Bowser at the cost that they let him go after the job is done. 

Basically, Ludwig is able to find a way to get Bowser's attention but things go awry from what he planned and tries to fight Bowser but fails(obviously). Accepting his defeat, Ludwig accepts to fate but to his surprise, Bowser decides to take him in as his pupil since he sees Ludwig's potential. 

As Ludwig is taken to the castle, he decides to roll with it and continues his plan but begins to feel like it could be a trick Bowser is pulling on him since he’s being allowed such liberties to just live in the castle freely and wonders if Bowser knows what he’s up to he could’ve gotten rid of him beforehand. 

During the week Ludwig stayed, both him and Bowser squabbled a lot at first and found each other completely difficult to get along with. Though as time goes on, they then begin actually becoming closer. 

Ludwig then begins to feel guilty that he's going to rob him but before he can decide against going through with the plan, the Monty Mole gang get to him and threaten that he has until the end of the day to pull it off since they think he’s beginning to get second thoughts. Ludwig then goes through with the plan but then just before he can make an escape Bowser catches him but he doesn’t get angry and lets Ludwig go saying that if Ludwig ever needs a place, he’ll let Ludwig come back. This then makes Ludwig finally break down and plead to Bowser for help since he doesn’t know what to do and he’s come to really care for him. Turns out Bowser knew something was up about Ludwig and took him in because he had already figured out he was being used by someone. 

By this point the Monty Mole gang had become impatient and set out to attack them, causing Ludwig to get caught near an explosion damaging his right ear. Though he and Bowser are able to fight off the gang and then Ludwig decides to become a pupil under Bowser's for real.

Mort/Roy

The twin sons of a renowned businessman, Morton Koopa Sr. who is known as a good person to the public. But underneath his persona, was a ruthless and cold man who has many secret ties to crime. Along with this, he also is one of the few Koopas with the rare ability of having a Giga Koopa form.

Their father was very horrible and abusive to them, so their mom was able to leave him and take Roy and Morton with her. Though unfortunately, she was murdered during a break-in and Morton and Roy had to move back in with their dad.

While growing up, Morton and Roy never got along and now with the pressure of being the next heir to his father’s company, Morton would be favored more by their dad while Roy would regularly get into constant trouble and was seen as the problem child. This caused even more of a strain between them. 

When Morton is eight, he also awakens his Giga Koopa powers like his dad and his life only begins to become harder from there. For my ver, the Giga Koopa form is a rare ability that can be only passed down through Dragon Koopas hereditarily but even then, the chances are very rare even with a direct bloodline. Also Bowser doesn’t have it either (just as a fyi I guess). 

At some point, Roy causes some trouble that makes their dad look bad and finally fed up with Roy always causing him problems, he decides to get rid of him. Morton figures this out and he finally decides to escape with Roy. While the two of them are getting chased after by their dad’s men, Morton then sacrifices himself and uses his Giga Form to help Roy escape. 

Roy then runs into Bowser and Ludwig and he manages to get their help to save Morton from his rampage. They finally run into Morton Sr once again who basically hands their asses to them but Morton comes in to defeat him for good. As he’s being taken away, Morton Sr tries to convince Morton to let him go but Morton has finally broken his control and he gets sent to jail.

The two then celebrate their freedom at least and decide to join Bowser as his students.

Lem/Igg

Iggy and Lemmy lived more around the Jungle Lands which consisted of more tropical jungle areas. A huge storm destroyed the area they lived in, making them both orphans. 

Lemmy lived happily with his family that consisted of his parents and his little sister. When the storm had hit and being with his sister last, he regrets never being able to save her. Iggy doesn’t recall much of his bio family though somewhat remembers he was probably the youngest one out of the bunch of siblings who usually had to fight to get things but couldn’t most of the time. He was neglected because of his odd behaviors as a baby and doesn’t know if he was just abandoned or if his family had died during the storm. Later on, Lemmy finds Iggy alone at a shelter and helps him by giving him food. The two then decided to become brothers and never leave each other alone.

Basically how the two join is that they just kinda showed up one day, and they just never got rid of them.

This is probably not a line I will keep in the final version but I will still share it regardless

Wendy

Wendy’s family consisted of her mom and her grandma who were Magikoopas. Her dad had run out on her mom when she was pregnant with Wendy and then mom died a little after having Wendy, who was then raised by her grandma. Then, when Wendy was two years old, her grandma had died from a sickness that left her alone with no other living relatives. Shortly after, Wendy's powers awakened and she couldn’t control them which would wreak havoc and create tremors, making others scared to take her in. 

Bowser and Kamek go to check out the source of the tremor and find her. She becomes attached to Bowser and with much reluctance from Kamek(due to how the other five Koopalings are already trouble enough)they take her in. The two find out very quickly that leaving Wendy alone is a very bad idea since she will get upset causing her powers to go out of control. They take her back to the castle and warn Lud and Morton to never leave her alone unless they want to find out the hard way. 

As she meets the other five, she’s a little overwhelmed at first and is particularly scared of Roy which he definitely did not get mad about.

Basically, it’s all up to Lud, Lemmy, and Morton to take care of Wendy(since Roy and Iggy are more likely to upset or annoy her). 

Then on a particular day, Bowser and Kamek are off doing something so they leave the Koops in charge of Wendy yet again. At this point, the other three are becoming a little tired of always taking care of Wendy who they can’t leave alone and all try to find an out to dump it on one or the other. It ends up that Lud and Mort decide to dump it onto Lemmy but since he has no impulse control if he and Iggy are in the same room, they decide that it’s okay to leave since they didn’t know about the consequences yet. 

After making sure she’s fast asleep in their bedroom quarters, Iggy and Lemmy go off but are then brought back when they hear Wendy crying after she found out they left her. They call back Lud and Morton and after a while of not being able to cheer her up, she then goes out of control with her magic and begins wreaking havoc yet again getting everyone all caught up in the storm. 

Unbeknownst to them, it turned out Roy was taking a nap at bedroom quarters the entire evening and he groggily wakes up and he’s able to calm Wendy down by simply brushing her hair since he figures that’s what she just needed. The others look in shock that it worked but are happy that Roy and Wendy then became the closest afterwards. 

Larry

Bowser is in this warzone somewhere in an ally island to the Darklands and finds a fallen soldier who is Larry's dad who gives Larry to him before shortly dying after. 

Larry doesn't figure this out until like way later because Bowser totally did not forget to run that by him which gave him an identity crisis for a while but hey it all worked out.

Anyways Bowser takes Larry back to the castle and decides that these seven kids he’s got will be his pupils. 

And I will share some writing I got down since this one is so short. 

*this one below takes at some point afterwards

And of course, everyone's reaction to when Jr had come along

[ahedderick]

@imjustheretofangirl003 WELL I didn't get any photos, because it kept raining on and off. Also we had a really terrible time trying to find places to safely park the car to get out a hike a bit. We ended up only walking about a hundred yards, but he did get to mark some places to go back to when the weather is less drippy and he can use his fancy camera.

The wildest thing was (backstory, some of my ancestors were coal miners, and lived in a tiny town called Barton) one of the places Son though we could park was in a tiny cemetery near Barton. We pulled in, but, unfortunately, the whole place was plastered with 'No Trespassing' signs. We didn't want to park, hike away from the car to find the old mine entrance, then come back to find somebody had called the cops. There are backwoods-type neighborhoods around here where people are incredibly paranoid about seeing strangers walk by or seeing a strange car parked anywhere near.

He circled the loop road in the cemetery, while I looked out the window wondering if

FOOTEN! I saw a largish headstone that said Footen. My grandmother's maiden name. Yep, that stone belonged to my great-Uncle P. and his wife. I had never been there before, and finding it so easily when we weren't even really looking for it was very odd. I'd like to have taken the time to find my greatgrandparents, and any other relatives who were there. However, we were looking for mine drainage, and the weather was NOT conducive to wandering around a cemetery.

We ended up getting close to two different drainage sites, and saw a bit of the characteristic rusty-orange color here and there, but not as much as expected. It's kind of wild to find parking in a church lot, try to stroll along a public road, and it's just - fences. No Trespassing signs. Savagely-barking dogs tied in yards. We are way-back-of-NOWHERE; what are you folks so damned afraid of??

Now that I think about it, though, that's the THIRD time I've found unexpected relatives in graveyards. Once was in a totally random cemetery in West Virginia where my mother and I pulled over to find a shady spot and eat a packed lunch. You just never know.

And I said it with a straight face

Son: Maybe you could go out with me this weekend to drive around the coal-mining region and look for evidence of old, closed mines! In the snow!

Me: Uh . . Well, of course, Honey, I'd lo ve to.

Him: Look! Last weekend I found several sites with acid mine drainage! I have pictures!*

Me: Gosh! Wow!

'* This is exciting to him because he is mixing his fishing and mining passions into a DEEP desire to participate in large stream reclaimation projects to make streams healthy again.

[worstsabretooth]

I've nothing to do, so, guys, tell me your Victor Creed's headcanons, feel free to say whatever you want :3

[elisamaza]

Pizza delivery drivers of Reddit, what are some of the craziest reasons people have ended up on the “no delivery list”?

gameryamen

I worked for a pizza place that was near a very large software company. Deliveries to the neighborhoods or offices where all the tech workers lived was usually pretty awesome because they'd tip rather well. But there was one apartment that started to become a concern for us drivers. The man ordering was always polite, always paid, always tipped $4, and he would have been a perfect customer. He'd order breadsticks and a salad twice a week, and sometimes he'd include a bottle of root beer. Except when he opened his door, you could see an alarming amount of our breadsticks boxes stacked everywhere inside. Not like a few on the counter and a couple by the trash, stacks and stacks of them. Even worse, it was only our boxes in there. He wasn't just ordering from us often, we were the only place he was getting food outside of work. Now, I've worked in some of those tech offices myself, I know that there's enough decent food options just hanging out in the break rooms that this guy was probably not malnourished, but the way his living space was a shrine of greasy cardboard was a clear sign that this guy didn't have a healthy relationship with our food. Our manager was a really cool dude though, and he heard the drivers joking about the boxes and asked a couple of us "Is this like a messy guy or a guy who needs help?" We agreed it was probably the latter. So on his day off, the manager went to the guys apartment with an envelope that had gift cards for several other restaurants that delivered in that area and chatted with him. Manager found out that the guy was an immigrant on a Visa who was struggling to find American food he liked, and too socially awkward to ask anyone. So he talked with him through a few menus and helped him with some recommendations. Then he helped the guy load all the old boxes into his truck to take to the dump, in exchange for a promise not to order from us more than once a week. For a little while, the manager had a note on the calendar showing the last time the guy had ordered, and a couple times he had to hold his ground and refuse the guy's order. But after that chat, I never saw the stacks of boxes again, and the guy would boast about the different meals he'd had.

what the fuck dude, this is so sweet.

[simpjaes]

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part two here!! | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k

CONTENT ―  modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS―  jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor 

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring 

NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him, 

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment. 

Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum. 

The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis. 

Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club. 

Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go. 

Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time. 

Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup. 

No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum. 

There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time. 

You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.

What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least. 

You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city. 

Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here. 

If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home. 

And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days. 

Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear. 

You’re going to the booming “after life”. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well.

“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains. 

It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink. 

God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place. 

Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.

His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”

Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think. 

You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you. 

Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.

And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual. 

A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.

Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.

In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering. 

“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”

“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast. 

The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile. 

You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think. 

“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”

You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night? 

Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices. 

“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway. 

Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you. 

“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.

You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it? 

Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely. 

You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through. 

God, it’s more beautiful inside. 

You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head. 

You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.

It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time. 

The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of. 

And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest. 

Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.

The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows. 

Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission. 

Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work. 

That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.

The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club. 

A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her. 

Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be. 

This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food. 

You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home. 

And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.

When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that. 

Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory. 

The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.

Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.

And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go. 

Somehow.

Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass. 

Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest. 

Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step. 

And suddenly, your body freezes. 

There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of. 

Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.

Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach. 

That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?” 

And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound. 

Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up. 

You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.

And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there. 

You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take. 

Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun. 

It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring. 

Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine. 

Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache. 

And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep. 

That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you. 

You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though. 

That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person. 

He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers. 

Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself. 

You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend. 

And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.

So bright. 

So full of life.

The exact person you’d want to be around. 

“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile. 

He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan. 

“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.” 

You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work. 

“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.” 

You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him. 

“So, it’s Friday.” 

He bounces on his feet. 

“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”

“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.” 

You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head. 

“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?” 

You nod casually with a shrug.

“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.” 

He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun. 

“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.” 

You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance. 

“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.” 

You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong. 

The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless. 

You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls. 

He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something. 

It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up. 

“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club. 

He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes. 

“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist. 

“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.” 

And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye. 

He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling. 

“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”

“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.

You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.

Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile. 

“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness. 

“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”

Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.

“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.

He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.

“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”

“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face. 

“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes. 

“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?” 

He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.

Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you. 

“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.” 

“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”

You nod shyly. 

“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”

He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground. 

“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.” 

“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying. 

And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.

“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.

And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone. 

As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?” 

Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar. 

For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.

“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink. 

“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar. 

Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.

You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man. 

Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat. 

You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.

God. The shirt is sticking to him. 

“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?” 

You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head. 

“Red death, please. Two of them.” 

The man nods with a knowing smile. 

“I saw that you came here with someone.” 

He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him. 

“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence. 

“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”

“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.” 

“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge. 

“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else. 

Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other. 

Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment. 

“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”

Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again. 

“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”

You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts. 

“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie. 

And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it. 

“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger. 

“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”

Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long. 

The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you. 

Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry. 

“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”

Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost. 

“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!” 

And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you. 

You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach. 

It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people. 

“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.” 

You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now. 

“Okay, lets get you to-” 

You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd. 

Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom. 

And it’s still suffocating in here. 

And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.

“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.

The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now. 

You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing. 

And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you. 

“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?” 

And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you. 

“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.

You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing. 

“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly. 

“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”

“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again. 

Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face. 

“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”

You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out. 

“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.” 

Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.

“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.” 

You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh. 

“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”

He pauses, eyes widening. 

“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.

And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them. 

You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful. 

Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone. 

You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.

You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.

There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you. 

“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it. 

Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”

“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.

The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you. 

“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll. 

And, well, you do get home safe. 

You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.

There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Have you no shame? 

Fuck no. 

What about Jungwon? Nah.

Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.

“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again. 

“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.

And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist. 

You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course. 

And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers. 

“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose. 

“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out. 

Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you. 

And, well. The night is a blur. 

Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again. 

Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it. 

You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again. 

It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.

And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity. 

You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point. 

Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness. 

And you search. 

And search. 

Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point. 

Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you. 

“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”

“In the flesh.” The man waves you off. 

And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it. 

“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point. 

Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club. 

It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.

Probably just a pimp. 

Or human trafficking. 

He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own. 

Still, you nod to the bouncer. 

“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?” 

You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face. 

“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”

“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste. 

And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy. 

More dizzy than you already were, anyway.

“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows. 

“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.

“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours. 

The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow. 

“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting. 

Again.

A third meeting. 

“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?” 

You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him. 

As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears. 

As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.

“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder. 

“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?” 

Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.

“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”

You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times. 

“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine. 

Pretending you’re not interested. 

Wondering why it is that you are, actually. 

“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?” 

Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention. 

You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply. 

“I believe you.”

Why do you feel proud of that?

“Come back with me, yes?” 

There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender. 

What was his name again? 

J…J-

Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no. 

Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away. 

This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.

You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers. 

You should find Jungwon and cling to him. 

You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run. 

“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.” 

And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon. 

And oh, wouldn’t you know.

You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present. 

A weirdo. A freak.

But…aren’t you too?

You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.

You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–

“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club. 

Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.

There, straight back to that damned cathedral.

You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color. 

The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors. 

Blue, red, green– 

“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”

Holy shit. 

You thought it was a dream.

You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow. 

And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think. 

Was it not a dream? 

The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh. 

This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room. 

You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them. 

The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…

Red.

Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse? 

Your shoes?

Where the fuck are your things?

You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.

Are you losing your goddamn mind? 

Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like last time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?

He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you. 

He’s definitely looking for you. 

Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back. 

“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?” 

You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation. 

“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”

You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before. 

“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room. 

The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you. 

“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more. 

“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?” 

“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.” 

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall. 

“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.” 

And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all. 

“Come now, dear.” 

Reluctantly, you follow her. 

All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be. 

She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence. 

Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat. 

There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is. 

“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought I had you too.” 

You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.

“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.” 

“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.

“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.” 

You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability. 

Again, red. 

“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands. 

You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale. 

There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.

“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed  yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?” 

A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak. 

“You got on your knees and you prayed.”

You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed. 

“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?” 

Exhale. 

“Me.” 

Inhale.

Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch. 

Well, goddamn. 

There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up. 

He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.

“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.

He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.

“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.

Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you. 

“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.” 

Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even. 

Words can’t explain how you feel right now.

“Why didn’t you leave?” 

You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place. 

All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”

You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him. 

God, he’s so charming. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.

You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep. 

Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here. 

“Where were you?”  He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door. 

Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies. 

“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”

“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.” 

You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys. 

“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it. 

What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?

“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”

You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.

A vampire? Really? Surely not. 

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?” 

Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend. 

“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”

You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red. 

Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it. 

“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.” 

“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him. 

“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.” 

He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.

And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.

“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side. 

You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk. 

A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something. 

That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales? 

It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world. 

“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile. 

“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”

You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.

“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.

To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim. 

The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.

“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”

All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay. 

The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more. 

Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him. 

He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel. 

Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to. 

It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway. 

Month after month after month. For years and years. 

It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days. 

Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies. 

“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” 

“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns. 

“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”

“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.” 

He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.

Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone. 

“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”

“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.” 

And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen. 

Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift. 

“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever. 

“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake. 

A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him. 

An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you. 

And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here. 

Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room. 

Familiar. Warm. Spicy.

Cinnamon.

A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door. 

“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.

“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him. 

“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here? 

“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”

And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows. 

You feel comfortable, safe. 

The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives. 

You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway. 

And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral

 silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways. 

No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget. 

“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close. 

You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.

“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them. 

“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back. 

From something.

“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”

“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall. 

“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.” 

He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door. 

You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes. 

“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?” 

And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist. 

“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?” 

“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens. 

“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest. 

“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now. 

After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.

“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach. 

“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.

Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you. 

“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made. 

“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”

Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right? 

“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.” 

Oh. 

And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands. 

“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.” 

Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you. 

Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again. 

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. 

And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours. 

You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.

Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you. 

“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.” 

You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly. 

“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”

You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.

Just a small bite. Just a taste.

“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.

He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it. 

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.

And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth. 

“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep. 

Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away. 

His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins. 

“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.” 

You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever. 

“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth. 

“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.” 

And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits. 

“Now, listen.” 

It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be. 

“Do you hear it?” 

You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth. 

There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste. 

“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”

Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.

“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon. 

And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying. 

Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.

He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect. 

In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.

You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.

So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least. 

And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you. 

Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?

And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips. 

Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears. 

And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true. 

No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there. 

And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.

Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath. 

He’s not breathing.

And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you. 

Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.

He smiles at you. 

At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that. 

You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now. 

Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do. 

So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own. 

A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you. 

Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too. 

And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him. 

He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked. 

Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.

It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way. 

Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood. 

After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.

There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters. 

Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?

Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.

It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.

You. 

You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him. 

“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–” 

Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.

Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-

Gods be damned, he could kill you. 

He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.

Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it. 

Needing you to stay alive. 

Insane. 

He’s fucking losing it.

He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble. 

He’d take a walk at noon.

You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either. 

If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst. 

If just to live in insanity.

“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”

“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now. 

Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs. 

“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin. 

“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.” 

“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?” 

Of course you fucking feel it. 

The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold. 

“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts. 

“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants. 

He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.

Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world. 

His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt. 

You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.

Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are. 

They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.

“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”

You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold. 

No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.

Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see. 

He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.

“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again. 

“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?” 

You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat. 

How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic? 

God, but it feels so, so fucking good. 

“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”

Ah. 

So he is. 

Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…

Entirely dead. 

“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end. 

“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”

Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him? 

If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him. 

Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.

He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–

The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it. 

He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point. 

It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up. 

You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.

And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him. 

And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release. 

You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed. 

You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality? 

You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories. 

The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.

And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying. 

You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there. 

Here it is. 

You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–

A kiss.

He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you. 

It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it? 

“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice. 

It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin. 

“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long. 

Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening. 

You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”

“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.” 

“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?” 

You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead. 

“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.” 

You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you. 

Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself. 

“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.” 

“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.” 

Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing. 

“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.

You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek. 

“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”

You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover. 

You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive. 

A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing. 

You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy? 

And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.

Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.

“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”

You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.

“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?” 

Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive. 

He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you. 

He’s never lied. 

You just refused to listen. 

He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you. 

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all. 

So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to. 

“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself. 

“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.” 

Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?

“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.” 

You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again. 

But he didn’t. 

He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you? 

What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?

He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.

After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him. 

Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?

And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.

Still, somehow, this feels holy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

PART TWO Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[bunny-jpeg]

heirloom tomatoes

simon "ghost" riley

tags: smut/pwp, farmer!au, romance/intimacy, size difference/kink, proposal, fruits and vegetables, sweet & gentle sex, slice of life

a/n: i've been playing too much stardw valley... (there may be more to this)

wilby port was there you got sent to. you had been living in england for some time now, but you were used to the hustle and bustle of london. the constant grind of the day to day. and now you were grabbing your two suitcases off the bus to the small harbour town.

the little house near the edge of town was your new home after your great aunt passed away. you know you could've sold the house and the land around it. but, after years of working so hard in the city. the idea of an escape felt exciting. so you took it as a chance and ended up in the quiet town.

that was where you met simon riley.

the first spring in the town, you had to figure out how to kill time. you had tried a few hobbies here and there, but with the season in bloom. you wanted to try gardening. and while you could've planted strawberries or even some peppers. you decided on heirloom tomatoes, and with poor internet connection in the town and an excitement that left you with little patience.

you had to ask those in town.

johnny shrugged, "i'd say go to ghost." he placed both hands on the bar and leaned forward to look at you, "he lives closer to the river. i'd say be careful. he likes to bite." the snapped his jaws playfully before he laughed.

"ah, ghost." price said when you asked him, "yeah he'd be your best bed." as he had the cleaver in one hand, "quite man, but if you're direct in your questions he'll give you everythin' ya need." then chopped at the meat on the table.

kyle replied when you asked him while he was doing research at the beach, "i'd say ghost, honestly. he has some kind of green thumb that i couldn't imagine. you know it's possible to kill a cactus." he laughed as he got more of the sand into the test tube, "your best bet would be him. ghost."

it left you with one question, who the hell was ghost?

it took a little while before you found ghost's house. you don't know why you expected to find a haunted house at the end of your adventures. something to match this so-called ghost. but instead you found a small farm house, crowded with various plants.

while it was in abundance, every plant looked healthy and well maintained. this looked like someone who would know how to grow heirloom tomatoes. you knocked on the door and when the door opened, you took a step back from the man who answered it.

he stood over six feet, he was broad all over. he was in a red long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. as a result you could see his arm full of tattoos. it made you swallow as you tried to maintain eye contact with him.

"can i help you?" he asked as he eyed you up and down.

you swallowed, "um hi! i was wondering if ghost was here?" it sounded weird in your head but you straightened up a little, "i was told by others that he could help me grow tomatoes."

the man looked intimidating. he was curly blond hair, dark brown eyes, his nose was crooked probably from multiple breakages. he had tattoos and scars that lined his body. his voice was a rumble as he replied, "name's simon. no need to call me ghost." then held out his hand. you smiled and shook it.

what you thought would have been an easy few tips turned into a pretty hard-core lesson about not just heirloom tomatoes, but all tomatoes. you tried to take notes on your phone, but ended up having to go old school and writing everything down by hand with a notebook and pen that simon gave you.

"no one usually listens this long." he chuckled a little as he took a sip of his water, "likes of johnny get bored after about five minutes." he crossed his strong arms and you felt something quiver inside of you.

you replied, "well, i want to do it right. it's not fair to the plant that i kill it." you tapped the pen against the paper, "so what was that about cherry tomatoes." and you watched him smile a little.

while you didn't have a huge piece of land like simon. but you had enough to build your little garden. it felt weird rewarding as the seasons changed, it grew warmer. and simon came to visit you more often to check on the plants.

johnny made a joke that simon was your shadow now, even referring to him as "the shadow" and you tried not to think too hard about it. simon was just a good friend.

when simon caught wind of this, he had to be a little more forward. over the time you had spent together, he had grown fond for you. so one sunny summer's day, he picked up flowers from the local shop and went to your house.

when you answered the door, you looked at him. and he looked at you. you were in a purple checkered apron with flour on your face.

"what are you doing?" he asked as he looked past you into the house. he could see the mess in the kitchen and the smell of cookies wafting in the air.

you looked at the bouquet of tulips in his hand, "what are you doing?"

"i was bringing you flowers.. to ask you out." "i was making cookies... to also ask you out."

you both looked at one another in the eye before he handed you the flowers and you looked at them then him again. you felt a leap in your chest and felt a heat in your cheek.

in unison you both said, "will you go out with me?"and then both of you smiled at one another. simon gave you that quiet smile he had and you broke into a wide grin. next thing he knew, you were pulling him into the house just as the timer went off for the cookies.

they were your attempt at shortbread cookies in the shape of hearts. but simon thought they were delicious. especially when you sat in his lap and chased every bite of a cookie with a kiss. simon soon learned that he loved your kisses.

"how does it taste?" you asked as you leaned in a little closer.

"perfect." he placed his large, rough hand on your soft cheek and leaned in to kiss you on the lips. you melted a little at the feeling. you felt comfortable with simon.

he was a protective force in your life. he didn't make you feel small, in a bad way. there was an obvious size difference so you were physically smaller. but simon would never make you feel weak. after that, simon was over every day.

he brought vegetables and fruits from the farm. sometimes he'd bring wild flowers from around the property and on weekends eggs for breakfast.

"simon! simon!" during the middle of a warm summer, you called your boyfriend frantically. he instantly was on high alert from your tone. when he asked you what was wrong, you replied, "the tomatoes! they're here!" and as soon as simon hung up the phone, he instantly was getting his boots on to head to your home.

you waved him over when he got there and he saw them. he saw the heirloom tomatoes, his eyes went wide at the sight of them before he pulled you in close to him. you two looked at each other before you leaned up towards simon and kissed him deeply on the lips. you held onto the front of his black t-shirt .

you pressed your face against his chest soon after and said, "thank you so much, simon." you felt heat radiate through you, a deep love for your partner. simon held you close and peppered your face with more kisses.

the kisses got a little deeper and simon held you closer. you smiled against his lips before you pulled away. he looked as red as the tomatoes you were trying to grow.

he swallowed, "as much as i would love to make love to ya out on the grass. i don't think ya want grain stains on everything."he chuckled as he held you face once more in his large hand. he watched you shift a little before you got out of his grasp and took hold of his hand.

once again you were leading him into your home. and simon barely had time to kick off his work boots before you were kissing him passionately on the lips. his arms wrapped around you as he pulled you up against him. your hands in his t-shirt as you both tried to navigate through the small house towards your bedroom.

eventually you pushed you much larger lover onto the bed and he hastily took off his shirt. you had seen him nude before. both in intimate photos he sent, and also when he'd walk out of the shower with just a towel around his waist. but to see his heavy cock one he got his bottoms off and exposed his heavy cock to you.

you licked your lips at the sight of it and got out of your clothes. before you could get onto the bed, he placed a hand on your lower back and pressed his scratchy cheek against your middle. he sighed, visibly relaxing.

"so soft." he said, as he groped your ass. you giggled and combed your fingers through his curled hair. eventually you ended up on top of him in bed. you helped remove his clothes as well, his socks and t-shirt. and you ended up in bed with you. his broad hands mapped your body perfectly, he wanted to feel every inch of warm soft skin.

you looked beautiful when you eventually ended up under him. your head in the pillows and simon was between your legs. his hefty cock was at full attention as he gazed lovingly at your figure. how could a woman so beautiful want to date a man like him? but,he realized a long time ago not to question you. if you wanted to date him, then he'd happily accept your love.

but only if he could give it back in a tenfold. he rubbed his achy cock up against you. it was painfully stiff and he loved the sight of it up against your smaller slit. he was so big compared to you, a fact that turned both of you.

simon had to admit as he sank into you, he liked feeling like a protector. to know that you were safe because of him. that nothing would hurt his darling girl. it made him feel a tug of pride as he slotted himself into your cunt.

the feeling made him shudder for a moment and the stretch made you arched your back a little. he watched your nipples grow hard which only made his cock twitch with lustful want.

he placed his hand over your chest for a moment, but didn't apply much pressure against you. his palm over your heart as he said, "your mine and i'm yours. you, me and all the tomatoes." he smiled down at you before he leaned in further to kiss you square on the lips. his words made you core feel gooey, you felt his love for you in your blood, raising the temperature of it.

he kissed you as he put both hands on your hips and moved against you. he was cautious about hurting you, causing you pain as his cock nudged against you. you moaned against the heated kiss, you shifted a little and he pressed further into you.

when the kiss broke, you looked at one another while the air in the room grew warmer. you felt the heat between your legs as he moved. his gaze was hungry as he moved against you. he admired every inch of skin he could. he couldn't deny it, he never could, but you were the most beautiful woman he ever had the pleasure to love. he wasn't known for being a lady's man, but to know that he had you. he didn't need anyone else.

when perfection was in front of him, he'd never waste you. the pace continued as did the pleasure. the heat between you two as he moved against you. you tightened your legs around him and reached out for him. you were soon chest to chest with simon making sure that he wasn't crushing you.

the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. it would be like crushing a flower, it would break simon. but you soothed any anxiety as you held his face and kissed him passionately with each of his movements.

the pleasure bloomed through both of you as the two of you continued to move against one another. you started to pick up his pace and the kisses became deeper. it felt amazing, you felt like you were on cloud nine thanks to his pleasure. there was something undeniable about him. there was something heated and needy about his movements as you pushed up against him.

"glad i fit." he remarked, "was worried for a moment that she wasn't gonna fit me." he patted your middle for a moment, the action made you squirm and clench around him a little tighter his heart hammered in his chest the more he moved against you. there was a slice of heaven under him and he wanted to make sure his girl felt good.

you giggled a little, "you're not that big. nothing i can't take. i'm strong enough." and let out a sharp moan when simon pressed into you further which made you feel snaps of pleasure in your head.

he chuckled and held onto you a little tighter, he pushed himself further into you and let himself enjoy the sweet, tender feeling of his beloved. he loved you, it was clear from the moment he asked you out. his affection for you only grew with time, he needed you daily. he was constantly around because you made him feel needed and wanted. you were perfect for him.

he kissed you once more and continued his hold on you. he rocked against you sweet cunt and felt the wraps of pleasure in his core. he loved the feeling, being so close to climax with his beloved under him.

you deepened the kiss and threw your arms around his shoulders. he thrusted up into you, his pace steady but not too rough. once again, the idea of hurting you, even by accident, pained him. he never wanted that, he only wanted your sweet moans in his ear and your smiles to brighten up his day.

you two moved against one another, the pleasure continued to course through you. the two of you made love on your creaky bed, but enjoyed each other's gentle company. you tensed up a little bit as you felt the heat of climax was over you. you moaned into the kiss, and quietly said 'i love you' under your breath as orgasm took hold. the thump in your chest made you feel hot all over.

"i love you too.' he said softly as he continued to move against you. you clenched onto him and he loved the feeling of your nails against his skin. he felt extremely hot as he bucked his hips against you. the hammering in his chest only fueled his want for you.

he soon climaxed and felt the shudder through his body. the blossom of heat in his core as he finished inside of you. with a few more heavy thrusts, he slowed his pace to a stop to catch his breath. however that was made hard because you pulled him in for another searing kiss.

you both got under the covers and kissed deeply with one another. you felt connected to him, so close to him. so loving for him. you moaned into the kiss and simon cuddled up against you.

you said i love you to each other many times as you laid comfortable in each other's arms. the love flowed between you two. simon knew and you knew that you'd be together for a long time.

simon looked at you as you laid there comfrotably. you looked like someone special to him. you looked like the future mrs. simon riley.

-

it was a hot summer day two years later, you had come by to visit simon and found him working away at the blueberry plants on the farm. eventually you got him back inside his home. you moved around the kitchen like it was your own home.

you were giving simon a stern talking to while you got him a glass of water to help cool down. simon just watched you from his spot at the kitchen table.

"and you know what happens if you don't drink water! i don't need you passing out and crows peckin you-", when you turned around you noticed a small box on the table. the glass of watr almost fell out of your hand as he opened it. shock marked your expression and he chuckled.

he took a hold of the velvet box and opened it with a smile on his lips. your scarred, famer's tan having boyfriend with a love for heirloom tomatoes, was proposing to you.

"will you-"

"yes!" you squeaked before you quickly put the glass down and went over to him. he grabbed you and seated you on his lap. you held his face for a moment to look into his brown eyes before you laid a kiss on his lips.

he only pulled away to slip the ring on your finger (it was a big too big, but that could be fixed). you looked at the emerald in the ring and felt tears in your eyes. you kissed him once more.

you had everything, a home, a husband and heirloom tomatoes. <3

[totheblood]

i still hear you. (prologue)

PAIRING: post tlou2!ellie williams x reader

SUMMARY: ellie stumbles upon your self-run town after her life is destroyed, except there's more to this town then what meets the eye. and it seems like there is more to you too.

WARNINGS: 18+ mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x

A/N: i've been working on this one for a while... i hope you enjoy! please send asks, reblog, and reply to this post <;3

WORD COUNT: 3k

"i still hear you laughing, but only for a minute"

Spring couldn’t come fast enough for Ellie. 

The cold still nipped at the exposed skin on her hands, ghosting the phantom limbs of the two fingers she was now missing. Everything was cold. The tip of her nose, her ears, and most importantly her heart. As she wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go, she knew there was one place she couldn’t go: home. 

Jackson was no longer a place for her. Joel was gone, Tommy thought she was weak, and Dina…Well, Dina wanted nothing to do with her. Dina had a lot she could blame Ellie for before Ellie left, but she never did. She stayed. And now, on top of all of that, Ellie had left one of the few people in her life who cared enough about her to stay. Spring could come tomorrow but it would forever be winter inside her. 

She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she was going west. She couldn’t handle the harsh winters of the East Coast, and Wyoming stopped feeling like home before she left for Seattle. She thought about staying on the farm and living out whatever short life she was going to have there, but staying in that home painted with memories of “what ifs” would drive her crazy. 

So she packed enough supplies to last her a few months if she hunted her food and headed to the West Coast. The first few days were silent, she only encountered a few infected and found shelter in abandoned buildings. She lived off of expired food she found in vending machines in old universities and occasionally sang herself to sleep. 

On her tenth day, she found a car that lasted her about 2 days. Once it broke down, she just kept walking. Over abandoned highways and thick forests, she just kept walking. On day 17, she reached California and stumbled upon an eerily similar set of walls. It looked just like the gates at Jackson, except these were concrete and better built. They were much higher, and the gates almost looked… automatic. 

Ellie was hesitant. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she definitely wasn’t looking for another hometown to destroy. She approached the large walls cautiously, with her hands up and slowly. As she walked closer she was screaming, “I come in peace,” over and over again. She was almost 50 feet near the gate when she heard a girl's voice shout, “Don’t come any closer.”

She stopped in her tracks as the automatic gates began to open. Ellie expected an army of people with guns blazing, just how it was when she first arrived at Jackson, but when the gates opened there just stood you, grounded in all your glory, and a gun aimed right at her face. She wanted to laugh, but that just seemed sexist. 

Instead, you pressed forward, unwavering, with your gun aimed right at her. She didn’t step backward, or even breathe, she just stood there until you were close enough to her to make out all the freckles on her face and the slit in her eyebrow. 

“Who are you?” you spat at her.

“Ellie,” she breathed out, her hands faltering a bit. 

With your hand firmly wrapped around the cold metal of the gun, you inched forward again, pulling back the slide, a metallic click echoing in the silence. The gun was loaded, and you were letting Ellie know that you weren’t afraid to shoot. Her hands stiffened again. 

“What are you doing here?” Your tone was tough and the look on your face was enough to send Ellie running for the hills, but it also made her want to crack a smile. Your nose scrunched up as you spoke, and your lips were somehow not chapped in this weather. But Ellie didn’t smile, she was sure if she did you would put one right between her eyes. That much she was sure of.

“I-” Ellie hadn’t thought this far. What was she doing here? “I’m just looking for a place to stay.” 

Your eyebrows creased as you gave her a once over, looking for any sign she was trouble. It was in your nature to search for danger, but she wasn’t raising any red flags. Except the fact that she made it here alone and unscathed, and was missing two fingers. 

“What happened to your hand?” you asked, tipping the gun slightly to her hand. A pained expression crossed her face, it was almost like she forgot that two of her fingers were quite literally bitten off, but that fight was somewhere shoved deep inside her mind. It wasn’t something she wanted to remember.

“Lost them in a fight,” she replied simply, there was no point in telling the full story. It’s not like you had the time. 

“You can’t stay here if you’re going to be trouble,” finally you put the gun down, resting your hands on your hips, giving her a firm look. Ellie would hand it to you, you were absolutely scary. In her mind, she knew she could take you, but she also wasn’t so sure of that.  

“I’m,” she sighed, lowering her hands slowly, “I’m done with that. I won’t be trouble,” and for the first time in Ellie’s life, she meant that. She was ready to start over. She knew the fighter in her would always be there, itching to come out but she had been fighting her whole life. It was time to give up. She had already lost everything. Or so she thought. 

Your face softened slightly before firming up again, your empathy peeking through like it always did. You looked her over again, sighing, as you signaled for someone at the gate to come. A man with short blonde hair trotted over, a leash in his hand. He looked kind as he offered a smile to Ellie.

“Old girl here is just gonna check to make sure you’re not infected,” he smiled, dropping the leash. Ellie’s heart rate picked up again as she watched the German Shepherd approach her slowly, sniffing around her as it circled her. You stood behind the blonde guy with your arms crossed across your chest. The dog found nothing and returned to the man, sitting down next to him, “Looks like you’re all clear!”

“Welcome to Mono City,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes as you turned back towards the gate, walking in that direction. You were halfway there when you realized Ellie wasn’t moving. Turning on your heel again you stared at her, hand on your hip again. You had an attitude, Ellie thought, cute. “You coming or what?”

The small town sat on a large lake, glistening as the sun's rays bounced off the surface. Buildings were built close together, trees without leaves scattered on the walkway, and about a hundred people out on the street as she trailed behind you, earning dirty looks from half of them. Ellie scowled back. Ellie smiled when you introduced yourself to her, telling her your name and a few key details about yourself. She learned you served as some sort of mayor here, keeping everything in order, and that you were the person that people came to. She would be lying if she said that didn’t intimidate her. But all Ellie did was give you her name again and tell you that she was from Jackson, anything else she said would fall short. 

“How are you with your hands?” you asked, voice flat and simple. Ellie choked on her words, stuttering a response. 

“I’m, well,” she coughed, “I’m just okay with them now, since,” she shrugged gesturing to what she now called her ‘bad hand’, “you know.”

A wave of guilt crossed your face as you composed yourself, somehow already forgetting your previous interaction. You shook your head solemnly, cursing quietly under your breath as you stopped. 

“Shit,” you turned to her, eyes squeezed shut, “sorry, I’m so used to asking the same questions, I didn’t even think.”

“It’s fine don’t worry about it,” she gave a tight-lipped smile. Now, with the illumination of the buildings, she could see your whole face. You were pretty, that she was sure of, but it was a more down-to-earth pretty. A type of pretty that you had to take in. You had scars around your face, and a pretty big scar down the side of your neck. It almost looked like the one Ellie had on her arm. But still, scars and all, you were just nice to look at. 

“Well, just for that reason we probably won’t have you be on guard duty,” you stated, eyes flicking around her face, “do you have any other strengths?”

“Uhm,” Ellie had to think for a minute. She had never really been asked anything like this before. What were her strengths? Did she have any at all? She used to be good at guitar, but now she couldn’t play, and that probably wouldn’t be useful at all to anyone here. She was good at art still, something she couldn’t take for granted anymore. It was all she had. The scratched-out drawings of Dina, JJ, Jesse, and Joel were stuffed deep into her bag.

“I’m good at art,” she shrugged, “and writing, maybe.”

“Okay,” you smiled, showing off your teeth, making her warm a bit, “that we can work with. Maybe you can teach at the school.”

“You have a school here?” Ellie gawked. Jackson had a school but it was small and had maybe two or three teachers. 

“Yeah,” you turned to keep walking, making Ellie stumble behind you to keep up, “we have three. An elementary, middle, and high school.”

“Wow,” Ellie was in awe, “It’s not like a military school or anything?” 

“No,” you answered quickly, your voice tight, “It’s not like any of that shit. We don’t fuck with FEDRA here.”

Ellie would be lying if she said that wasn’t music to her ears.

“It’s just like a normal school except we teach a lot more practical things. Things we can use like, cooking, science, and English. Like reading or writing. Since you’re new you will probably start with the elementary school. We also have little extracurriculars and we’ve wanted to introduce art but haven’t been able to find anyone yet.”

“Oh, cool,” was all Ellie said as you both stumbled on what looked like a residential street. There were rows of houses, all that looked the same. There was a road, with cars parked on them and driveways with gates. Most of the houses looked about two stories tall, some had toys lying in the front yards and a few animals were roaming about, small cats and dogs. The porches had furniture on them, little couches and chairs, and as she walked she noticed some people outside with mugs in their hands as if they were drinking their morning coffee. The town looked like something she saw out of a movie, only something she could dream about. Her eyes were wide in awe as you rambled on about something but Ellie was honestly too entranced in everything. Here, in the middle of nowhere was a whole town of people living their lives, as if nothing had ever happened to them. 

“Ellie?” you stopped in your tracks, crossing your arms over your chest. There was your attitude again, “are you even listening?”

“Y-yeah, I am. It’s just-”

“A lot, I know,” you sighed, “but you gotta listen, there are a lot of rules here. Rules that make this place function and if you don’t follow them, you could easily be kicked out.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, genuinely meaning it, “I’m listening, promise.”

“It’s fine,” you gave her a fake smile, turning to push open a gate to a nice house, “This will be your place.”

“Uhm,” Ellie stopped, not entering the front yard, “what do you mean ‘my place’? This is far too big for me.”

“This is the only size our houses come in,” you replied matter-of-factly, “you can just say thank you.”

Ellie blinked as she looked up at the blue house, that looked like it was built yesterday. It had a wrap-around porch and two white columns right by the entrance. The door was a giant white door with a gold handle. This was nicer than any house she’s ever been in, and way too big for one girl.  

“Thank you,” Ellie replied, still awe-struck, “this is just so nice.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled, fishing around in your bag for something. You pulled out a pair of keys, and handed them to her, “Here’s your house keys. You don’t get a car quite yet, that’s something you have to work your way up to, but there is a bike in the garage. Spring is around the corner so it will get warmer and you should have your car by next winter so don’t worry too much. My house is right across the block, but I’m usually in the City Center if you need me.”

She wrapped her right hand around the keys, tightening them in her palm. She watched as you searched through your bag again and pulled out a little device. 

“This is your walkie,” you took a deep breath, “Try to find me before using it. It’s usually only used for emergencies so just be mindful of that. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you to work, so you have time to get settled in today. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ellie smiled, her voice sounding a little bit breathless.

That night Ellie settled into her new home. Well, she tried to settle into her new home but kept shifting around in every seat and couch, like she couldn’t find something to get comfortable on. She examined every part of the house, picking the smallest room for herself and shoving her backpack in the closet. She took a bath for the first time in months, washing all the dirt and grime off of her. Left in the shower was a bar of soap that looked like it had been handmade and unused. It smelled so good she almost took a bite, but instead chose to use it how it was meant to be used.

As the sun began to set she stepped outside, watching the activity on the block and smiling to herself. Everything just seemed so normal, but with the state of this world this town was certainly abnormal. From her window she could see you in your front yard, feeding a pack of cats that slipped through your white picket fence. She smiled to herself as she watched one rub against your leg, and your gentle hand coming down to pet it. She continued to watch as kids passed your house, waving to you and running back to their homes. 

The next few days were uneventful. Ellie found herself getting used to teaching young kids, always laughing when they asked about her missing fingers. It was out of her comfort zone, but she was around JJ enough to know what kids liked. Her voice always got so high-pitched when she spoke to them, and they liked being chased around the room. On her fifth day of working, a kid ran in screaming, “Miss Ellie! Miss Ellie!” with a chicken scratch drawing of his family. He was so proud that all Ellie could say was “Good job, bud!” and ruffle his hair. He left with the biggest smile on his face.

But now, Ellie found herself at the city’s most popular bar, with the other teachers who wanted to congratulate her on her first week. Della, who invited Ellie out in the first place, made a toast to her, clinking her glass with Ellie’s and taking a long swig of her drink. Ellie took a sip of hers too and fuck, this shit was strong. 

She felt human again, laughing with people her age in a bar and old music playing. She was almost having a good time until a song came on that reminded her of Joel. It was like her whole demeanor changed and everyone could tell. She excused herself from the group finding a small corner to sit on and finish the rest of her drink, hoping maybe it would make her forget everything. But then, the bell at the front door rang making Ellie look up to see who had entered. 

There you were in all your glory, tight shirt on and hair completely loose. It almost looked as if you were wearing makeup. Ellie must’ve been staring too long because she blinked and you were standing in front of her. 

“See you got yourself a drink,” you laughed, voice making Ellie’s cheeks turn pink. She was… really drunk.

“Yeah, I could get you one too,” she slurred a bit, goofy smile spread across her face. She watched as something odd crossed your face and now she was worried she said something wrong, “I just mean, like.. you know… I mean like as a thank you.”

“Right,” you sighed.

“For my mansion, you know,” she shrugged and you giggled. You giggled and it went straight to her head. What was she doing?

“You haven’t been paid yet,” you smiled back at her, now moving to sit down, “and it’s okay, I don’t drink unless it’s a special occasion.”

“What? Meeting me is not special enough,” she teased, knocking her shoulder with yours. Her eyes scanned your face, your smile reaching your eyes as you giggled again. Her stomach sank again. She wasn’t so sure if this was just the alcohol anymore, she felt like she was 12 and crushing on Riley again. 

“No, it’s special,” you reassured, “Maybe, I’ll drink when you decide to stay.”

“Who said I’m not staying?” she questioned sitting up.

“Some people don’t,” you shrugged, smile fading. Ellie’s brain wanted to make it better, make you laugh again, or shit do anything to put the smile back on your face. 

“Well, I’m gonna,” she said gently, so only you could hear her, “I need to get my paycheck.”

You laughed and Ellie breathed a sigh of relief, laughing with you. 

“I’ll get that to you,” you smiled, “and we don’t use paychecks.”

“What’re you gonna pay me with?” she smirked, “I know some other ways you can pay me.” Then the same look from earlier crossed your face and she cursed quietly to herself, muttering an apology. 

“No, no,” you said, like you were about to let her down gently, “I just try not to get… involved with anyone since…” your voice trailed off.

“Since?” Ellie questioned, but as you opened your mouth to speak the group from earlier made their way over, noticing your arrival and screaming your name. She watched as you got up, hugged everyone and started chatting with them, leaving her with her drink and too many questions. 

There was one thing that scared her though. She knew you needed someone who could stay, and the only thing she was good at was leaving.

[dreamingoftaehyun]

ᯓ★ Cat Lovers | 나재민 ˎˊ˗

"Who expected the owner of a cat you found near your house to be the hottest man you've ever laid your eyes on?"

☆ pairing: na jaemin x afab! reader ☆ genre: fluff, smut. 18+ mdni. ☆ au: strangers to lovers ☆ word count: 5.5k

☆ a/n: my nct writer debut !! i've finally dived into ncity and now i wanna write for them too. i'm so excited to share this.. i love jaemin sm (i can see him being the dream member i write the most tbh) sorry if this is a little corny. i can't not be lovey-dovey when it comes to na jaemin :(

₊ nsfw warnings under the cut

₊🎧: pretty boy the neighbourhood, kingston faye webster, no other heart mac demarco, show me how men i trust, freak lana del rey, positions ariana grande

☆ warnings: not proofread! outdoor sex, exhibitionism, fingering, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (do not do this), pet names like ‘baby, princess, good girl’, they’re very in love

  Your daily commute to the convenience store was nothing out of the ordinary. Except this time, today, there was.

  You weren't paying attention to your surroundings, your body running on autopilot. You walked towards the next aisle, a few items in your hands, then— CRASH!

  Before you knew it, you ran straight into a very warm, hard wall...? The items you held clattered to the floor and when you looked up, you realised it wasn't a wall. It was a man. A very attractive man.

  "Shit! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." You quickly apologised. You didn't notice his hand was supported on your lower back until you both stepped away from each other.

  "No worries, are you okay?" He asks before you both crouch down to pick your dropped items up, his hand accidentally brushing yours. "Y-Yeah, I'm okay, thank you..." You blush as you both stand back up, and he helps you take the items to the checkout.

  Searching for an opportunity to ask him for his number, your mind was racing. The two of you walked out of the store together, and the man hands you your bag of items. "Get home safely." He smiles, waving, before he turns his back to you and walks the opposite direction.

  It dawned on you as you watched him walk away into the distance that neither of you told each other your names. Idiot.

  It's ridiculous how such a short, insubstantial interaction with an attractive guy put such a big smile on your face during your walk home. What an odd day.

  · · ─────── · ·

  When you were close to your house, you heard a meow from around the corner. Stopping in your tracks, you listened closer.

  Meow.

  You decided to see if your ears were playing tricks on you. When you turned the corner, you spotted a white rag doll cat with matted, filthy fur, that seemed to be starving. You cautiously approached it, but when you held your hand out, it immediately came to you.

  "Hi little one," You call in a sweet voice. It lets you pet it whilst you take the time to study the collar around it's neck, reading what was engraved on it. "Ah, so your name is Luna." You contemplate aloud.

  You scoop the cat up and make your way to your house just down the road. "Come on Luna, I'll get you something to eat."

  Stepping into your home, you go straight to your kitchen. "There you go, I'll be right back with food." You call to the cat while setting her down on the floor. You get a bowl and fill it with cat food, placing it on the floor.

  After you ensured the cat was fully fed, you took the time to run it a bath. You expected the process of washing her to be hard, but Luna was one of the most docile cats you've ever met. When you placed her into the bath, she literally just stood there and allowed you to clean her with no troubles.

  "All done!" Calling in a sing-songy voice, you gently lift the drenched cat from the bathtub and pat her dry with a towel. "I should really give your owner a call now."

  You sat in the living room watching over Luna as you dialed the numbers that were on her collar into your phone. You felt guilty that you desperately wanted to keep the cat, but this was the right thing to do.

  The phone rings several times until it's finally picked up, a males voice speaking over it. "Hello?"

  "Hi, sorry if you're busy but I've got your cat, Luna, in my apartment, I found her outside." You explain and you hear the man gasp. "Oh my God, you found her?! She's been missing for almost two weeks!" The owner exclaims.

  "Are you able to come pick her up now?" You ask, waiting for the owner to answer. A few moments pass, you assume he's looking at the time or something. "Maybe, may I ask for your address to see how close it is? I have some errands to run but those can wait."

  You give him your address and apartment number, and luckily you lived only a few blocks away from him. "I'll be there in 15 minutes!" The owner says before hanging up the phone. You look across the room and see Luna playing with a cat toy you had. You really wanted to keep her.

  · · ─────── · ·

  After fifteen minutes exactly, your doorbell rung. You buzz him up, and a few moments more a you hear a soft knock on your door. You grab Luna and open the door.

  It was him! The guy from the convenience store earlier that day was Luna's owner. Maybe it was fate to meet again.

  "Oh, hello there again." He greets first, a sheepish smile adorned his face, seemingly taken aback that it's you. "H-Hi, here's your cat." You hand Luna over.

  Luna's owner immediately engulfs the cat in a hug. "Oh my baby, I missed you!" He dramatically sighs and you can't help but giggle. "Don't ever run away again." He scolds the cat with a pout.

  He looks back at you for a moment. "Um, I should give you some money or something for finding her." He fumbles with his pant pocket, about to pull out his wallet. "No! It's fine, you don't need to do that."

  The man nods in understanding, putting his wallet back in his pocket. "I'm Jaemin, by the way." He introduces himself.

  The name strangely suited him. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, again..." You mutter the last part and he laughs. "I really love your cat by the way, she's so well behaved!"

  "Yes, she's a dream. Except when she decides to go on little adventures around the neighbourhood," Jaemin smiles and coos at the cat in his arms.

  A few moments pass in silence as you study the man. He seemed lost in thought, until he finally looked up at you with a grin and opened his mouth. "Hey, instead of me paying you, maybe you could come visit Luna and my other cats every now and then?"

  The proposition sounded very tempting. But you hardly knew the guy... Your survival instincts were screaming red flag! But deep down you knew Jaemin was harmless.

  This could be the perfect opportunity to get to know him. "Sure, I'd love that."

  "Great! I'll give you my number."

  · · ─────── · ·

  You and Jaemin had been texting non-stop since. Mostly because he would spam you to play pool with him on iMessage but that's besides the point. Every time you'd get a notification from him, you'd start giggling and kicking your feet. You were down bad for a man you hardly knew.

  Jaemin hadn't asked you to come over yet. He was scared you'd misunderstand his intentions. You expected that, so you initiated first.

  When the conversation you were currently having with him died down, you decided to finally bring it up.

                           so... when do i finally get                             to see luna again?

    I'm free tomorrow,     you? :)

                            sounds like a plan!!

  Squealing over the message like you were a teenager texting your crush, you immediately stood up to pick out an outfit while you texted back.

  You turned your phone off and threw it on your bed as you looked through your closet. Jaemin had a good fashion sense, — You definitely didn't stalk his Instagram — so, what you picked had to be something that wasn't too much, but also give a good impression.

  You decided on wearing a baby blue sweater with a white skirt to match. The skirt wasn't too short, but you did decide to wear it on purpose. Whether that purpose was good or bad, you didn't know.

  You could hardly fall asleep, excited for what was to come tomorrow.

  · · ─────── · ·

  When you approached Jaemin's apartment building, you started feeling anxious. What if he ends up hating me?

  Those kinds of self destructive thoughts are what would always hold you back from things. But this time you refused to listen to them.

  You took the elevator to his floor, double checking the room number he sent you. Knocking on the door that had the numbers 24 on it, you heard clattering inside and quick footsteps approaching the door.

  Your anxiety bubbled down when the door swung open and you were met with Jaemin's smile that beamed down onto you like the sun. He looked a little disheveled, his hair messy and his face flushed. Why was he out of breath?

  "Hey Y/N. Come on in," Jaemin steps aside and lets you pass him, stepping into the small hallway. "Um, ignore the mess please. Luna and Lucy were fighting just before you came, and I had to break them up. Very strenuous work." He explains with a chuckle, gesturing towards the knocked over items on the floor that you assumed was the decor on his coffee table.

  "No worries. Where is Luna?" You ask, looking around and only seeing a male cat you've never seen before. "That's Luke. Luna's probably hiding under the couch. I've put Lucy in timeout since she was the one that started the fight."

  Jaemin continued to tell you about his cats. You loved how proud he was to be a cat father. As you sat on his couch together, a white furball in the corner of your eye nudges your leg. "Luna, there you are!"

  You coo as you grab the cat and pull her into a hug. "My other cats will be jealous," Jaemin chuckles. "Luna seems to love you."

  "I have to admit, I almost kept her when I found her." You smile guiltily, but Jaemin just laughs. "You know, Luna's the only one of my cats that don't warm up to other people besides me. You're special."

  Your heart races at Jaemin's words, heat creeping up your neck. "I just have that effect, I guess." You smile sheepishly.

  Jaemin just nods, silence filling the room. You continued to play with Luna, not noticing the gaze the man had on you. You only turn to look at him when he clears his throat.

  "Do you want to get something to eat?" Jaemin asks. Your eyes widen a little, caught off guard. "There's a cafe close by. We could walk." He adds.

  You can't help but smile. "Why not?"

  · · ─────── · ·

  Was this a date? Those thoughts ran through your head during the walk to the cafe. You and Jaemin walked side by side, close enough that your hands would brush every couple of steps. You noticed he was a bit shy, and so were you.

  The two of you now sat side by side in a booth. You thought that a table where you faced each other was too 'date-like', so you gravitated towards a booth and it seemed Jaemin understood and slid beside you.

  Since it was midday, you ordered bacon and eggs with an iced tea as brunch, Jaemin the same. "So Jaemin, what do you do?"

  "I'm in my last year of college. I'm majoring in graphic design and photography. I'd like to make it into my career some day." Jaemin explains, and you stare at him in awe. "What about you?"

  "I never went to college, so I've been kind of aimlessly working different retail jobs. It's enough for me, I never really had a dream career." You explain, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop. "Sorry, I overshared a bit there."

  Jaemin just shakes his head. "No, I want to learn more about you. Overshare all you want!"

  You just nod and smile, about to ask another question but were interrupted by the waitress placing your food and drinks down in front of you.

  "Thank you," You say as the waitress walks off. "Um, so what made you get three cats?"

  Jaemin laughs. "I don't really know, to be honest. I started with one, then I ended up adopting the other two. They're siblings, I couldn't bear the fact they'd be separated."

  "Awe, that's so cute. You're so admirable." You compliment and you don't miss how he shyly smiles.

  The conversation went smoothly, the two of you learning things about one another. You even told him stuff some of your friends don't even know about. Jaemin felt like a safe space, like you could confide in anything with him.

  Finishing your meal, the question of if this was something more than just a hangout plagued your mind, so you decided to just ask. "Jaemin, is this a date?"

  You just had to ask him when he was taking a sip of his drink. He choked, coughing. You pat his back to help him out, making sure he was okay before speaking again. "Sorry, is it not?"

  "It originally wasn't, but if that's what you want it to be, then sure." Jaemin smiles at you. His eye contact was magnetic, you couldn't stop yourself from looking at him.

  "Okay..." You replied meekly, not expecting that reply. Your face was burning at this point.

  Your body jolts when Jaemin's hand covers your own hand, that was placed on the booth seat. "However, I would like to take you on a proper date. What do you say?"

  Your heart jumped into your throat, not able to speak at his forwardness despite his outwardly shy demeanor. You melt at the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. "It's okay, Y/N. Don't be anxious."

  It's like he knew you already. "That'd be lovely, I-I mean, I'd like that." You stumble over your words, making you both chuckle in amusement.

  After a few more conversations, you both decide it's time to leave. "I'll walk you home." Jaemin offers.

  "No! You don't have to do that," You shake your head. "But I want to." Jaemin insists.

  "I don't want to trouble you..." You sigh. Jaemin pouts but nods in understanding. "Okay, fine. Just make sure to text me when you get home so I know you're safe!"

  "Fine, dad," You groan, rolling your eyes jokingly. "See ya!" Jaemin just grins, waving like how he did when you first met. "Bye, Y/N!" He calls as the two of you part ways.

  · · ─────── · ·

  It was the night of your and Jaemin's proper date and you were shaking with anxiety. He was taking you to the movies, so it was going to be a chill, fun date Putting your outfit on, you admired yourself in the mirror.

  You decided on a simple white long sleeved crop-top and a light blue pleated denim skirt. Along with some sheer tights underneath since it was getting colder.

  It was just a casual outfit, but something about it made you look hot. You checked the time and saw you only had 45 minutes until Jaemin arrives, so you scramble to do your hair and makeup.

  Luckily you finished right on time, putting on your perfume as the last step before you heard a knock on the door. Grabbing your bag and putting your shoes on, you open the door.

  "Jaemin!" You exclaim, engulfing him in a hug. You could still feel the lingering touch of his hand on your waist when you pulled away. "You look amazing," Jaemin smirks, eyeing your figure. You couldn't help but feel small in his gaze.

  You took the time to drink him in. His hair was styled in the way he usually does but this time he looks different. Sexy. He wore a simple white t-shirt with a black leather jacket paired with a pair of jeans. "I could say the same to you." You smile.

  "Shall we go?" He asks as he jokingly lifts his arm up for you to link yours with his, and you nod with a laugh. Jaemin opens the passenger door to his car for you and you can't help but tease him for how chivalrous he was being.

  "So, what movie are you taking me to?" You ask, looking over at the man now focused on the road ahead. "It's a secret." He hums and you roll your eyes.

  "If it's a horror movie I might kill you, I swear." You mutter and Jaemin laughs. "I can tell you it's not horror. Don't worry, you'll love it."

  When Jaemin pulled into an outdoor parking lot, you were confused. Where was the movie theatre? But then you realised it was an outdoor cinema, and you squealed. "I've never been to one of these before!"

  Jaemin smiles as he parks his car in a spot that had a clear view of the screen. "And, guess what?" He replies. "It's a showing of your favourite movie!"

  You gasped. He remembered your favourite movie? You both talked about all your favourite things with each other over text but you didn't expect this at all. It may have been the bare minimum, but your heart swelled with love nonetheless.

  Jaemin got a blanket and a few pillows from his backseat and you helped him spread them into the trunk of his car, creating a nice seating area for the two of you to watch the movie comfortably.

  "This is so lovely, thank you Jaem." The nickname rolled of your tongue. "I like that, 'Jaem'." He murmurs, mimicking the nickname. "Call me that more often, baby."

  Your knees almost buckled at the pet name he gave you. His words laced with honey had you wrapped around his finger, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

  After back and forth flirting, you settled into the trunk of Jaemin's car. The movie started playing and you were immediately enthralled, not realising how close you were laying next to Jaemin until you felt his hand rest your thigh.

  You shyly peeked at him, he was fully focused on the movie. You lean in closer to him as the night air was getting colder, and he wrapped his arm around your waist.

  You basked in the feeling of his touch, not wanting it to end. Sadly, it ended as soon as it started, because Jaemin moved his arm to pull a blanket up on the two of you. His touch was quickly replaced by his hand on your thigh again.

  He started tracing circles on the inside of your thigh and you shivered. The seemingly innocent action quickly making you think impure thoughts.

  Swallowing, you looked away out of shame. "What's wrong, princess?" Jaemin asks in a whisper, and you jump at how close he is to your face when you whip your head back around. "Why're you so jumpy?"

  "I-I'm sorry," you stutter, trying not to make a fool of yourself. Jaemin smirks when you look down at his lips, not breaking the distance between you. "Can I kiss you?" You whisper.

  Jaemin doesn't answer as he closes the distance between you, and you melt into the kiss almost instantly. It was sweet and gentle, like he was being cautious. But you got impatient, swiping your tongue against his lips.

  He lets you in, sucking on his tongue as your hand toys at the hair on the nape of his neck. He groans softly onto your lips, enamoured by you.

  You can feel the hand he has on your thigh creep up dangerously close to your growing arousal, his other hand cupping your cheek. When you pull away, he grips your inner thigh roughly. "Wanna make you feel good, can I?" He whispers seductively into your ear.

  You nod your head but Jaemin shakes his in response. "Nuh-uh, I need to hear you say it."

  "Please, Jaem... Want you." You mewl and he grins. "I'll take care of you."

  He pulls you into his lap while still keeping the blanket on you, his hand cups your clothed core from under your skirt, which was now raised up past your upper thigh. You sigh, your head falling into his shoulder as he slips your underwear out of the way.

  "You know, I never hook up on the first date, but you..." Jaemin whispers lowly into your ear, you squirm under his touch when his fingertips just brush your clit, it's not enough. "You make me crazy, I can't keep my hands off of you."

  Whimpers spill out of your mouth when Jaemin's thumb finally rubs your clit, slow and tantalising. The movie was loud enough and the car was far away from others that you doubt anyone would hear you unless you started screaming, so you let out any pretty noises that Jaemin forced out of you.

  His fingers rub up and down your vulva with his thumb still on your clit. "So wet for me, you're adorable." Jaemin cooed, his deep voice so close to your ear. You watch as he moves his hand that was on your pussy up to his mouth, his lips wrapping around his digits.

  He hums in delight, not breaking eye contact with you as he licks them clean of your slick. "Fuck..." You moan softly at his ministrations, your eyelids heavy with lust.

  "Can't wait to taste you properly. But that'll have to wait." Jaemin pouts, the enticing tone of his voice making you insatiable. "Jaem, need more. The movie's almost finished."

  He listens, his fingers dipping into your entrance, but only giving you just a taste of them. He was doing it on purpose.

  You groan in frustration, and he just chuckles while finally putting two fingers inside you. He shows no mercy as he fucks his fingers quickly into you straight away, making you pant and writhe against him.

  You were so wound up already, and he didn't even touch you that much. Maybe it was just his aura, but it felt like Jaemin had cast a spell on you. You were love drunk on him. It was only your first date, you remind yourself.

  When you throw your head back into his shoulder out of desperation, his lips swallow your moans, you could barely breathe with how long he kissed you but you loved it. Then, he added a third finger, then a fourth. You were gone.

  You were already wound up tight but once he added pressure on your clit with his thumb, and you felt his other hand press down on your lower abdomen harshly, it was over.

  "Fuck— fuck, Jaemin!" You choke out, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. "Shit, you came fast." Jaemin chuckles in your ear, and you feel like crying when you feel him pull his hand away. You were about to protest, tell him to get over himself, but he puts his fingers in your mouth right as you opened your mouth.

  You lick your cum off of them, not breaking eye contact despite the fact that his eyes on you doing something so lewd made you want to crawl into a hole. "You look so pretty." He smiles.

  How could he sound and look so sweet during such an impure moment? "Can I do something to help you out too?" You ask when you shift your body and feel his rock hard cock on your ass. "It's okay, the movies about to finish anyway. I like pleasing you." He shakes his head.

  You hum, turning your attention back to the ending scene of the movie. "I can't wait to sink my dick in that pretty pussy of yours, though." Jaemin whispers into your ear when the credits start rolling, his voice deep and laced with sin.

  "My place or yours?" You ask, pulling your panties back in place and your skirt down before you help Jaemin pack up the blankets and pillows. "Mine."

  When you were in the car on the way back to Jaemin's apartment, a sense of dread suddenly came over you. It wasn't because you were scared of him, it was how he thought of you right now.

  What if he thought you were a slut for hooking up on the first date? What if he just wanted to fuck and nothing more? Your leg started bouncing anxiously as you sat in the passenger seat next to Jaemin.

  "Are you having second thoughts? I can take you home if you are," Jaemin speaks up, worry in his voice. "No, no it's not that... I just..." You trail off, unable to get your words out.

  "It's okay. Let it out." Jaemin reassures, placing his hand on your thigh and squeezing lightly. "Are you just doing this for the fuck, or do you actually want this to go somewhere? Because I do." You speak after moments of hesitation.

  Jaemin stays silent for a moment, before finally opening his mouth. "I gave you my number originally because I had an interest in you since the convenience store, if I'm being honest. This is not just to hook up."

  You let out an exhale you didn't even know you were holding. You stay silent as Jaemin parks his car in front of his apartment building, you could tell he wanted to say more.

  "I do want this to go somewhere. I don't care where, I'd just like to be with you in any way I can. I really like you, Y/N." Jaemin confesses.

  "I know we have just gotten to know each other, but my heart pounds every time I see you, even when I get a notification from you on my phone." He continues and you can't wipe the grin on your face.

  "God, I believe we're fated to meet because why are you so perfect?" You utter and he laughs. "I just poured my heart out to you and that's how you reply?"

  You giggle and playfully shove him. "Sorry, I can't take this seriously. But I'm grateful you can be so emotional with me, because I'm not great at telling people how I feel." You say before giving him a long, passionate kiss that had him melting under your touch. "D-Did you want to come in?" He stutters.

  "Yes, you being romantic really turned me on." You mumble and he rolls his eyes with a grin before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the car.

  · · ─────── · ·

  It was no surprise he had you on naked, on his bed in the matter of minutes as soon as you entered his apartment.

  But when he unbuckles his belt, you sink to your knees and move his hands out of the way, doing it yourself and pulling his pants and boxers down in a rush.

  "Jeez, you're that hungry for it?" Jaemin teases but you ignore him as you stare at his cock once it springs free and hits stomach. It was pretty and veiny, the tip flushed from the blood rushing to it. "You're drooling." He says.

  "Shut the fuck up or I won't suck you off." You deadpan and he stops talking. You smirk as he lets out a small moan as soon as his tip enters your mouth.

  "Who's drooling now?" You challenge, looking up at his blissed face. "S-Shut up, I just haven't done this in a while..."

  You giggle and keep sinking down on his cock, your hands taking the space you couldn't fit in your throat without gagging. You start off slow, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth and jerking the base of it off, Jaemin's soft groans spurring you on.

  His hand in your hair tightens when you remove your hands and try to deepthroat him, but your gag reflex stops you so you pull away. "Sorry, fuck... I also haven't done this in a while." You shyly admit while Jaemin strokes your hair to comfort you. "Baby, you're doing amazing. Don't stress, just do what you're comfortable with."

  Why couldn't every man act like him? You smile and take him in your mouth again, but this time his cock slips past your gag reflex and you cheer internally. "Ah, fuck. Good girl," Jaemin praises and you whimper around his shaft, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine.

  "Mhmm, just like that." Jaemin moans, hand in your hair getting tighter as you take him in your mouth deeply. You started playing with his balls, and that was when his moans started getting breathier.

  You could feel him twitch, but as you were getting ready to swallow his cum, he pulls you off of him. You pant, catching your breath as he wipes the spit and drool off of your face. "Wanna cum somewhere else."

  Jaemin helps you up off your knees and lays you down on his bed. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

  Embarrassment blooms through you, looking away. “Don’t hide from me.” Jaemin’s hand moves your head to face him.

  He then pulls away and looks through his bedside table. “Shit, I don’t have any condoms…” He mutters. “It’s okay.. I’m clean and on birth control.”

  He hesitates. “When was the last time you got tested?”

  “Six months ago. But I haven’t fucked anyone since.” You answer. “You?”

  “Last week. I’m clean too.” He smiles sheepishly and you chuckle. “It feels better raw, anyway.”

  Jaemin’s face flushes but he closes his drawer and positions himself between your legs anyway. “You sure?” He asks one more time.

  “Yes, Jaem. Fuck me already.” You groan, sexual frustration washing over you when you have a hot, naked man who is interested in you right in front of you.

  He finally sinks his tip inside of your entrance, his cock going inside bit by bit until he finally bottoms out. You both moan together in relief.

  “You can move.” You reassure, your hands on his shoulder as he hovers above you before thrusting once or twice, experimenting.

  He wasn’t huge so you didn’t feel any pain. You weren’t sure if it was just because it’s attached to him, but his dick felt good.

  His thrusts started to speed up, his hands holding your hips tightly as your hands scratched down his back.

  “Ah- Ah, god,” You whimper as he hits the spot that made you feel stars in only a matter of minutes. “Jaemin…” His name leaves your lips drawn out and whiny, just how he likes it.

  “Will you be my boyfriend?” It comes out of your mouth without you realising until Jaemin stills his hips, his dick twitching inside of you. He laughs in disbelief.

  “You ask me that while I’m balls deep inside of you?” He teases and you hide your face with your arms, embarrassed.

  “Look at me, Y/N.” He orders and you listen. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

  He pulls you up for a kiss, this time it was filled with something you couldn’t point out but it felt amazing. Then, he snaps his hips up inside of you and goes back to his pace he had before. “Fuck!”

  “Baby, you’re gonna drive me crazy… Swallowing my dick so tightly, like I was made for your pussy.” Jaemin rambles, too lost in the pleasure to care if he sounded insane, but you ate up every word he said to you like it was your last meal.

  “I’m close.” He whispers, his thrusts getting faster and he snakes a hand to your clit, trying to get you over the edge too. “Come with me?”

  “Y-Yeah,” You slur, his relentless pace making you dumb. You felt his dick twitch inside of you before he pulled out, jerking himself off while rubbing at your clit.

  You came at the sight of him alone — all sweaty, moaning and fucked out for you. Your body convulsed and you felt his warm cum on your stomach before he collapsed beside you, pulling you into an embrace.

  You gave yourselves a few minutes to come back to Earth. “Let’s get cleaned up…” Jaemin mutters, helping you to his bathroom.

  · · ─────── · ·

  You and Jaemin had been dating for a month now, and you basically became his cats’ mother. You were over at his apartment any time he wasn’t busy with college or work. You fucked like rabbits too.

  You’d suck him off when he’s trying to write his papers, he’d eat you out when you were chilling on your phone. You made love almost every night… You were content.

  After not dating anyone for almost four years, Jaemin coming into your life was the best thing that could have happened to you, and you couldn’t help but thank Luna for coming to your apartment building that day when she escaped Jaemin’s.

  “Hey baby, you finished?” Jaemin knocks on the doorframe to get your attention. “Almost, give me a second.”

  You type the last sentence onto your laptop, closing it with a smile. “Finished!” You exclaim.

  “Finally, I’ve been waiting all day to touch you.” Jaemin groans. You giggle as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom.

  “Well now you have all night.”

[moonlight-prose]

hi! just watched someone like you last night & i saw your requests were open for eddie 😫

either:

1. "did you just wash these sheets?" "i did." "they smell nice. and they're still warm."

or

2. "we should really get up." "we should....but we won't."

whichever you like better!! they both screammm eddie to me

love is here to stay

a/n: what i wouldn't give to cuddle with this man in the mornings. possibly making him late for work as other things ensue. and i've always tied jazz songs to movies from the early 2000s and 90s. so this is based off the ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong song. i fear i'm down bad for this man and would love to have him be my boyfriend.

summary: mornings where the summer heat was unbearable and energy was nowhere to be founr, made getting up a difficult task. add a sleepy eddie and a multitude of kisses and suddenly it became near impossible.

word count: 1k

pairing: eddie alden x reader

warnings: semi-explicit so 18+ ONLY!!, summer heat eviserating anything fun, banter, eddie being a fucking tease, sweat, he calls the pussy her, comfy loving scenario.

New York City roared to life on the other side of your apartment wall. Chatter of people shouting, horns of taxis already stuck in morning traffic. Not even your shut and locked window could block each noise that came through. It was a place that demanded to be heard the second the sun rose up in the dark blue sky.

You mumbled something unintelligible, hand reaching for the covers that were no doubt kicked to the bottom of the bed. Halfway through the night the air shut off—effectively making your place a hellscape with no chance of avoidance.

What began as a night filled with naked skin and fast bitten thrusts, turned to the both of you sleeping as far away as humanly possible. You were almost certain if you opened your eyes you'd find Eddie at the edge of the mattress—his body covered in a sheen of sweat. Matching you completely.

"Mm," he groaned into his pillow, flipping over to his side, an arm flinging around your bare waist. "You move too much."

"Shut up," you muttered.

You could feel the tendrils of a somewhat breeze filter in through the living room where you'd left the fire escape window open. Neither of you bothered to shut it after the glass of wine and shared cigarette turned to stripping him of his shirt and you of your pants. It felt like a miracle you made it to the bedroom at all—his body collapsing atop yours with a pained groan; hands grasping for any piece of plushness he could find.

"Make me." Even in sleep he managed to grin like a tease. His eyes shut and hand shifting to cup your bare ass. "Feels like you want to," he sighed around a half yawn.

You shuffled closer, cheek pressed to his chest. "Feels like the fuckin' world is on fire."

He tapped your ass. "That it is baby."

What little energy you could gather was bled from your body the longer you lay there. Summer eviscerated any means of joy in your life. What could you do? Hiding inside was all you had left in order to escape the heat. Now even that left you withering against his torso—body slick with sweat that would only return moments after you washed it off.

"Eddie," you yawned, throwing your arm over his stomach. He offered a grunt; the heat now muddling his brain and cutting off his ability to form words. "You work today?"

His arm raised above his head, onto the pillows beneath him. (Pillows he stole in the middle of the night.)

"I could," he sighed. "Got lots to do at work."

"Ah. I forgot. Big time hot shot."

The audible smack of his hand landing harder on your ass made you laugh; your leg kicking out to deter his attacks. He couldn't help it. Toying with your flesh was the highlight of his mornings. His eyes creeped open, lips tugging into a lazy grin that screamed drowsiness. Only to watch as he jiggled your flesh—fingers kneading at you like a fucking cat who just found the softest pillow in the world.

"Unless you intend to fuck me stupid Alden. I'd stop that."

His head fell back with a raspy groan. "Got no energy to fuck you stupid baby." You glanced at him, chin resting on his chest. "How about I just fuck ya? Huh?"

"Stupid or no deal," you mumbled.

"My cock is gonna be begging for you all day."

"Too bad." You smiled, pressing a kiss to the hair that nestled in between his pecs. "Shoulda thought of that before you didn't call the super to fix the fuckin' air."

His sigh was wistful—-relenting. "Yeah I know. I'll call 'em today."

The city took over your conversation when silence began to filter in between the cracks of your haven. In this small bedroom, you were safe. Content even as the warmth of your lover began to stick to your skin and cause discomfort. Moving wasn't an option. Nor was taking a cold shower.

So you remained there, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath.

"We should really get up," he muttered, head turning to face the window.

The sun came through your sheer curtains, casting a shadow along the hardwood floor. You marveled at how picturesque it was—how heavenly.

"We should..." You placed another kiss against his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat along your tongue. He groaned, his eyes meeting yours. "But we won't."

"Baby," he breathed.

Your eyes narrowed. "Don't even think about it Eddie."

"C'mon!" he laughed. "Lemme eat your pussy. I'll be really nice to her."

"Fuck off. 'S too hot." You buried your face into his skin, biting back the peal of laughter he could tell lay on the tip of your tongue.

"All I'm saying is she's never not liked my tongue down there."

The loud smack you land to his stomach causes a howl of laughter to erupt from his chest. His body rolling over to trap you beneath him—pressing you down into the mattress as he bit at your neck. Another echo of the city poured in through the open door, cracking through the bubble you both resided in. But the feel of Eddie trailing kisses down your stomach killed every sound that didn't belong to him.

"Too hot my ass," he mumbled along your hip bone, teeth scraping the skin hard enough to draw a moan from your lips. "It's never too hot to have something sweet, baby."

You smiled, curling your fingers into his hair. "I hate you."

"You love me," he retorted, drawing your thighs up and over his shoulders. "Admit it."

When he looked at you like this: eyes bright enough to put even the sun to shame. How could you say anything but yes?

[shadowharkness]

there is something so gay about the song 'one short day' and the specific line:

"i think i've found the place where we belong" (sung by both glinda and elphaba)

the place where they both belong. for elphaba this makes sense. it's all green and she doesn't feel ogled at.

but for glinda? she's revered wherever she walks, be it shiz or munchkinland, she's never faced public scrutiny. so her finding comfort in the emerald city, a place that's entirely green and theatrical, and full of "wonders" that she's never seen, is strange! it seems to imply that there is something within the emerald city that allows her to be her true self.

perhaps its because she wants to be where elphaba feels most secure. she wants to be amongst the free-spirited. she has a whole boyfriend (fiyero) back at shiz, yet she feels like she belongs in the emerald city, where elphaba is able to be herself. it's also super gay because despite glinda being the standard & who people look up to, internally she seems to be going through a conflict. she cannot be herself (queer, unashamed) unless she's with elphaba.

near the end of the song, elphaba and glinda repeatedly make references to returning to the city, calling it "home" and a place to "make their way", heavily implying that the two of them would return together. they're gonna move in! and no one will judge these two women for living together and being together in any capacity.

one short day is the gay yearning to feeling accepted song of all time.

[jenneyquinn]

𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

in which the pine tree and llama are the epitome of soulmates w/c: 11.2k words (not proofread) masterpost

“in case if you have forgotten, pacifica northwest is the worst.”

well, near the end of their first summer in gravity falls, worst would be the cumulative word to describe pacifica—in the view of dipper pines, that is. and how could he not? so far, all he’s seen of her was a spoiled, rich, mean girl who was nothing but awful to his sister. a product of a family consistent with fraudulence and an unwavering desire to be at the top—

“pacifica’s rich, she’s cheating at life”

“nathaniel northwest didn’t found gravity falls and your whole family’s a sham”

—dipper could describe pacifica in many words that would paint her in a negative light, but there could be only much to say about her that is justified by his character. he doesn’t hold a lot of money to his name, or his family for that matter, but he lived life honestly. to find the truth in all things.

and considering pacifica northwest was cruel enough to make his sister feel bad about herself? what more truth was there in calling her the worst?

amongst the roars and cheers of the audience in the telepathy tent, there was a pair of starry eyes that were completely struck in awe, and maybe... admiration?

but how could she not? from the flashing lights to the glowing cerulean bolo ties that match their eyes (which also managed to glow?)—pacifica southeast was hooked on the gleeful twins, especially the male counterpart of the pair; as revealed by the faint blush on her cheeks.

her cousin, gideon pines, begged to differ. though knowing him, pacifica knew that the chubby little nerd is hard to impress—hard enough that he might as well be dubbed the "fun police".

gideon just doesn't get it, she thought, if those dreamy blue eyes were in front of him, alluring as he is mysterious...

she then gets lost in the image that occurred just a moment ago: the gentle look of dipper gleeful's eyes boring right into hers, taking her warm hand in his cold one as he brings it to his lips, barely grazing the surface; all the while looking directly at her, the smallest hint of a grin gracing his face right after.

despite how cold he felt, how cold his aura was—pacifica couldn't have felt any hotter that summer night.

“i went from undergrad to phd three years ahead of schedule, wrote a thesis that was nationally ranked and was awarded an enormous grant for my own scientific research! but what to study…?”

after being rejected from his dream school, dipper pines worked twice as hard from his time at backupsmore uni to reap success similar to what he would’ve achieved had he made it into west coast tech.

one day, dipper pushes his hair back when he looks at himself in the mirror, pondering over his constellation-looking birthmark…

then suddenly, click!

in the blink of an eye, he finds himself in the middle of nowhere in gravity falls, oregon, obviously needing a place to stay.

that's when dipper goes to northwest realty, where he meets up-and-coming realtor, pacifica northwest.

"so, you wanna buy this lot?" she asks, unclear if she heard the guy right. "are you sure you wouldn't like to reconsider and opt for an alternative location? i mean—given this lot has been a preserved environmental space, and you'll be ways away from the town—you'd be funneling a lot of money just to get this lot and build a home here."

"oh, it's alright, miss—"

"just call me pacifica." she interrupts, but smiles.

"sorry—pacifica, i can assure you that money is no issue to me. i've recently received quite the grant to pursue an independent study, and this would be the perfect location to conduct my research."

"i see, but mister pines—"

"it's dipper," he cuts off, returning her smile from a moment ago.

she chuckles before continuing: "if it's researching your business here, i can gladly show you a place close to the local library—or the museum? our town archives?? surely this would be a more efficient use of your money."

"heh, you're not like the other northwests," dipper replies, reflecting on his own knowledge of the northwest family, "aren't you supposed to be like, bleeding me dry? i'm practically helping you more than myself here."

pacifica gasps, looking offended: "excuse me?"

suddenly, dipper realizes he's messed up. sometimes that mouth of his is too smart for his own good. he didn't mean to insult her, it was meant to be playful teasing that's all!

so he stammers, trying to undo the damage.

"i-i'm so sorry! i didn't mean it—to be insulting, that is! i s-swear it was only meant to be a lighthearted joke! you smell r-really pretty—"

amidst his ramblings, pacifica breaks into a fit of laughter.

"you're something, dipper pines. you know what, let me sell you the lot, and i'll pay a lumberjack to build your new home for you. don't worry, you seem to know a thing or two about my family anyways, so it's no big deal."

"really?" he asks, dumbfounded. "you'd do that? but why?? surely i have some money to spare after getting the lot—"

"i do have one condition, though."

dipper breaks into a sweat—though, he thought he's already gotten past that phase from his adolescent years.

pacifica takes out a small, square pad of yellow sticky notes from the front pocket of her orchid-purple blazer, puts it on her clipboard, taking a pen and writes on the pad. when she finishes, pacifica peels the sticky note from its pad and promptly hands it to the brunette.

"when that house of yours is built, how about i drop by for dinner? that better be some study if it's taking you away from civilization."

“call me crazy, but maybe she’s not so bad after all…”

dipper thinks aloud, surprised by the sudden change in his opinion. besides, how does one go from being the worst to not so bad?

perhaps he was crazy, or maybe it was the faint smell of champagne and flowers in those probably-fake blonde locks of hers... could there be something more to pacifica northwest that goes deeper than the surface? or something deeper between them??

impossible! come on, this is pacifica he's talking about. pacifica northwest! the greatest link in the world's worst chain—but that's like picking out a fresh apple from a basket filled with mouldy fruit.

so, as soon as he let his vulnerability scrawl across the journal page through his pen, dipper just as quickly crosses it out.

the picture can stay, though. after all, his artistic ability does a great job capturing the likeness of her beauty—

okay, i've got to stop that!

pacifica, on the other hand, could not have slept any better.

sure, she had to endure a grounding by her parents and a nightmare traumatizing enough to keep a tapestry of a one-eyed triangle demon locked in her closet so it would no longer bore through her eyes and into her soul.

but she also couldn't deny that it was a humbling experience for herself. pacifica had to face the music and realize that the pines twins were far from her problems... in fact, they might have been the first real friends she has ever had in gravity falls—and she's lived here forever.

the pines twins were the first to show pacifica northwest the truth—about her heritage, about what her family has really done to others, about the kind of person she's come from and whether she wants to maintain that legacy or not.

when she refused to shake that stony, moss-riddled hand, something clicked in pacifica. something that said her integrity was worth more than a dollar sign, that the price of morality could actually mean more than money; and she would have never come to that epiphany if it weren't for dipper and mabel.

after all, them being here has to mean something, knowing that she could sleep in peace, with dipper pines only a call away.

as the morning newspaper plopped on their doorstep, gideon was the resident of the mystery shack who picked it up off the planked stoop. what once was a facial expression of exhaustion immediately turned to one of shock and possibly disgust?

of course, when you read a headline talking about gravity falls’ most dangerous guy dating your cousin, those sort of things will do that to you…

GLEEFUL’S NEW GIRLFRIEND? LADIES STEP ASIDE!

gideon doesn’t bother reading the article himself, but he could tell from the pictures of his mortal enemy and his best friend-slash-cousin being dangerously close to each other—there is something calculated about gleeful’s smile… it’s clearly there for the paps, cameras and flashing lights and all, but there’s something more sinister to that small, suble, charismatic grin.

and that something sinister says: screw you, gideon pines.

“PACIFICAAA!”

despite the local news jolting him wide awake, nothing could’ve prepared gideon for the wolf-pitched squeals filling the shack, all coming from the small southeast.

“no! there is no EEE-ing about this, pazzy!” he bursts, all red in the face and pouty, to which pacifica couldn’t help but laugh to; it was a sight for sure.

it doesn’t take long for them to have yet another conversation about dipper gleeful being too dangeous for pacifica to date—let alone be in close proximity with—but she knows, deeper than the dark side dipper does have, that he is a good person.

but when you see the good in everything, rationality and skepticism won’t budge—which exactly is making the subject between the pines-southeast duo a million times rockier than it needs to be.

i should really get that mirror dusted… dipper thinks to himself as he adjusts his tie using his apparently dusty reflection in the mirror.

embarrassing. the man is already in his twenties, and you think that growing up properly-dressed, the least he could do is put on a tie correctly…

a ding-dong from the front of the shack pulls him out of his concentration, causing dipper to groan and throw his hands up in frustration. he was so sure he was going to get it right this time.

but a final tired, defeated glance at his reflection said otherwise.

nevertheless, dipper goes to answer the front door, where he sees his date looking… why is she wearing sunglasses, a shapeless trenchcoat, and a big hat? is she wearing a disguise??

is she embarrassed to come out here to see me?

letting herself in, pacifica removes the big hat and sunglasses, her platinum blonde hair cascading on her shoulders and down her coat, diamond eyes and strawberry-pink lips giggling at her dorky-looking date.

she approaches him already, which makes dipper more red-faced and sweaty. they couldn’t have their first kiss already?! not when their first date barely began!

he’s all the more ashamed when he puckers his lips only to meet air—cracking one eye open to look down at the woman adjusting his tie, smiling fondly.

when she finishes, she tip-toes to meet his height, giving a single peck on his red-hot cheek and chuckles.

“glad to see you, too.”

if there was anything that mabel has brought to the people of gravity falls, it would be her natural talent for matchmaking.

it’s already one thing that your enemy has stopped being your enemy, and another thing that your twin brother is finally starting to get over his one-sided crush, but for both your ex-enemy and twin brother to have a spark and potentially experience an epic enemies-to-lovers romance?!

it wasn’t the match she ask for, but love works in mysterious ways…

and if this match needs to be made, it shall be made!

it all started with the party at northwest manor…

while mabel had made up with candy and grenda, done with eye candy for the night, she just wanted to have fun and appreciate her girlfriends for a night—after all, it was their dream to party inside of northwest manor than camping out by the main gates like the rest of the townsfolk…

but then… from the corner of her eye, had she spotted her brother… smiling? and having fun?? with another girl???

if mabel has to be honest, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to find out said girl was pacifica northwest, but hey—if dip had to get over wendy, he had to start somewhere…

it didn’t help that she was laying in bed, wide awake in the dead of night, trying to figure out what was going on between the unlikely pair. it got more frustratingly confusing the more mabel paid mind to it, and can someone stuff a sock in her snoring brother’s mouth’s already!

but for a guy who rarely gets any sleep, mabel’s grateful that pacifica was able to entertain dipper enough that he practically went out like a light as soon as his body hit the mattress…

‘though not before sneaking in another quick entry in his journal,’ mabel notes in her head as her tired eyes spot the open journal laying atop dipper’s chest; rising and falling with it.

her eyes squint, trying to make out the drawing of the creature in his journal (not to mention, she’s trying to figure that image out in the dark)

when she catches a glance of the side profile, puffed dress sleeves, and voluminous hair, mabel’s hands join together as her eyes sparkle and a smile spreads across her face.

a scheming smile, that is.

roses are red, pacifica's blood is blue i read what you crossed out i'm onto you!

then, before she signs off her short, yet beautiful poem, mabel takes a final look at dipper's sleeping state; squinting her eyes and chewing the tip of her gel pen.

"start combing your hair, bro-bro..."

although pacifica southeast has barely cried in her lifetime, given that seldom events and things have caused her to be in such a miserable state, nothing could have possibly prepared her for the worst forms of sadness.

betrayal, deceit, heartbreak.

she knew she should've seen it coming, deep down in her heart she knew the true nature of the boy who instantly caught her eye... but it didn't stop pacifica from ignoring all of her cousin's warnings and looking on the bright side, as she typically did.

but maybe this time, there was no silver lining.

she looks back at the polaroid pictures in her summer memories scrapbook, a memorabilia she compiled of her first vacation in gravity falls and the first moments she would share with her family and new friends.

thinking that she would look back at these times in the future and see heartfelt memories, pacifica could only see the polaroid picture where she looked her happiest with dipper gleeful, as a tear drops between where the pair are shown.

he broke her heart, made her cry, but after some tears were shed and noses were blown, pacifica southeast was left with a heart done wrong and justice to be served.

if the gleefuls thought they would get away with this, they were dead wrong.

walking up to the doorstep of her boyfriend’s place, pacifica holds a small gift bag on one hand as she uses her free one to knock on the front door.

excitement is spread throughout her face as she smiles from cheek to cheek, unable to maintain her patience with each passing moment.

though, she wasn’t prepared for her smile to drop the instant when another woman opens the door, greeting pacifica with a single smile before swiftly exiting dipper’s home.

“oh, hey paz!” he greets his girlfriend, smiling. as if some other woman didn’t just leave his place—a woman pacifica clearly had no idea about.

she looks indifferent, refusing to give the guy any sort of response as she enters the shack, bumping her shoulder against his as she walks in.

noticing her sour mood, dipper tries to sweeten it up by using up his nerd charm. i mean, it was how he got to date her from the start.

“c’mon, northwest, no ‘hey four-eyes’?” he asks playfully, dropping his arms to her waist, “no ‘hi dip-head’?”

pacifica pulls away from his arms before he got the chance to pull her in any closer, turning her nose up and away from him as she closes her eyes and huffs.

“hey…” hurt starts to rise in dipper’s voice as she pushes him away, “are you okay? if i did something wrong, you need to tell me. you know i’d never hurt you, right? paz…”

“do i, pines?” she retorts, sounding frustrated. “do i know anything about you? because i know nothing about that girl who just left your house in a good mood, i know nothing about your family, i don’t even know what the heck you research or why you’re in gravity falls!”

“pacifica…”

she sobs as more tears stream down her face: “is it because you don’t think i’m smart enough for you? that i’m nothing more than a pretty face and sort of walking, breathing trust fund you hold onto so when you’re short on money, i’ll be the one saving your butt??”

the blonde turns away from him, not wanting him to see her so vulnerable. dipper, on the other hand, refuses to take this. was this what his girlfriend really thought of their relationship… of herself?

in that moment, dipper curses preston and priscilla northwest for causing their daughter to possibly think so low of herself.

“pacifica,” he speaks up, bringing a hand to her chin and getting her to face him, “the reason why we’re dating isn’t only because of your looks… surely, you must know that?”

he looks into his girlfriend’s tear-filled eyes, his heart breaking at the sight of her miserable state: “you’re so much more that what your parents make you out to be. i date you because i have fun whenever we’re together… you absolutely destroy me in fight fighters and show me that there are other ways to have a good time than books…”

he blushes, internally recalling their shared moments, “the truth is, i get scared. a gorgeous woman like you, inside and out, going out with a nerd like me? it’s like a dream i don’t want us to wake up from… but what if one day, you do wake up? i have nothing much to give to you, pacifica. i don’t have much money to my name, and my research is… laughable to a lot. what if you laughed at me too? you’d think i’m just some loser that’s wasting his time and grant money on weird stuff…”

“dipper pines…” she looks into his eyes intently “do you trust me?”

a silence fills the room for a moment, until he replies.

“of course i trust you, pacifica.”

taking a deep breath before she continues, pacifica continues to look into his eyes through those big glasses of his: “maybe i don’t understand what you research… maybe i never will… but, your work makes you happy."

she smiles at him, her diamond-blue eyes still hot with tears: "i like when i see you happy, dipper. it's... cute? i never felt this way about anybody else before, but i like feeling like this. i like when you geek out about weird stuff—it's when you're really yourself, and i like that you don't let what other people think change that about you."

now, dipper begins to tear up, but trying his best to compose himself—wondering how he got so lucky to be dating such a person.

finally back in her good mood, pacifica hands the gift bag to her boyfriend.

"i got this for our one-month anniversary, it's not much, but i thought i'd get you some more 'thinking pens' for your research... and a pack of chewing gum because i don't want to date someone with braces... or worse—toothless."

after sharing a laugh together, dipper takes pacifica by the hand, leading her to his lab.

"maybe now would be the perfect time to show you what i've been studying since i've moved to gravity falls."

mabel knew that summer's end was fast approaching, but it doesn't mean that there would be no time for romance!

besides, she knew that the plan she was about to concoct wasn't something to be done overnight... sure, making a match for robbie stacy valentino took a couple days to work out—along with the consequences of her social circle—but this project? compared to robbie, he was a piece of cake!

this was her brother. and her former enemy.

the seeds still needed to be sown.

it wasn't completely hopeless though. at least, after the events of the northwest's party and dipper's journal entry, there was potential to be explored. and if dipper pines singlehandedly had the ability to spark a change of heart in pacifica...

if only mabel knew how pacifica northwest felt for her brother...

then, just like a prayer answered, a 'ping' goes off on mabel's phone, revealing a text from an unknown number...

hey, dipper... so about that hug...

hug?! what hug?! she had all wendy's, candy's, and grenda's numbers in her contacts, so who could've possibly wanted to text her brother about some hug that they wanted to forget—

suddenly, as mabel gasped, it was totally clear who it was.

now, there was many ways she could approach this. so many possibilities. does she pretend to be dipper and try to hook him up? does she try to be a supportive friend and be honest with pacifica??

actually, come to think of it... after all the times she's been embarrassed by the hands of that northwest, she's been overdue for a bit of humiliation herself.

a mischievous smile spreads across mabel's face. matchmaking can wait, anyways.

“it’s over, southeast!”

cornerned by the two terrorizing twin-bots, pacifica is left out of options as the gleeful twins have captured gideon, his tiny body restrained by the big metal grip of the mabel-bot.

“you’ve been had,” mabel continues, “the only way for boys to be interested in you was by pretending—which is exactly what my dear brother had just done."

as pacifica turns from mabel to dipper, he turns his head; refusing to look back at her. whether he actually felt a twinge of guilt or didn't care enough to return her gaze was irrelevant—pacifica's heart broke all the same.

"now, we’ve won! with gideon possessing the first and third journals, the gleefuls can finally take over gravity falls… heck—we can take over the galaxy!”

as she laughs maniacally, the turns to gideon, still in her steel grip: “with you as my lil’ king!”

“a-hem,” dipper calls from behind—his robotic hips on one side, metallic arms folded over each other, and a foot tapping against the forest floor; probably scarring away any woodlen creatures nearby.

“you heard me, diphead. there’s only room for one pair of rulers here—but hey! you and will have made decent sidekicks in the past. if all goes well, i’ll make sure there’s room for the both of you in my court—ha!”

with that, mabel’s robot violently shoves dipper’s with one hand as she keeps gideon the other; her grip still tight on the poor child.

“AHH!”

dipper screams as he falls out from the robot’s head, his eyes shut as he braces his demise… if only he still had his amulet.

pacifica gasps, watching dipper in the sky.

“dipper!”

pulling out her grappling hook, she shoots it without a second thought, praying to whatever force out there that it latches onto some sort of strong branch, and leaps forward; the recoil pulling her towards the endangered gleeful twin.

then, before he had any idea, dipper doesn’t feel the weight of the wind and gravity pushing him down anymore. instead, he feels the warmth of something… or rather yet, someone, holding onto him.

he cracks one eye open to see that, pacifica southeast, the girl he’s been deceiving for the past month, glaring at the mabel-bot.

“pacifica?”

“shut up, gleeful. the only reason you’re alive is because you’re helping me get gideon back.”

TACK!—TACK!—TACK!

the stones that hit against the glass of pacifica's bedroom window were enough to annoy her awake. she hoped that her parents weren't bothered by the sound as well, despite her doubts.

"chiu?!" she exclaimed in a hush voice, "the heck are you doing out here? it's three in the morning!"

"pacifica!" the ravenette in the lab coat calls out to the northwest, fiddling with her hands, jerking her head from side to side; as if somebody was watching her. "y-you need to talk to dipper! he doesn't g-get it! wh-what's coming—"

"whoa, candy, hold on," pacifica interrupts, rubbing her temples, "chill. breathe. slow down. what doesn't dipper get? what do you mean 'what's coming'?"

"i'm not crazy, pacifica!" candy panics. "something's coming. something bad. but dipper's too stubborn to stop his work! if you don't stop him, this could be the end of gravity falls!"

"c'mon, talk sense. this is dipper, we're talking about. he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"i don't think we're talking about the same dipper."

with that, candy makes a hasty leave from the grounds of northwest manor, leaving pacifica in a mixed state of exhaustion and confusion.

candy doesn't know what she's talking about, the blonde tries to convince herself, dipper's stubborn, but not stupid.

she sleeps with some difficulty that night, but come morning, she goes to her boyfriend's place to visit; clearly concerned about candy's warning from the night before.

when the door opens, pacifica greets dipper with a big smile, to which he reciprocates, but then asks about the reason of her visit.

"can't i just visit my boyfriend? c'mon, let's go to the lake—your skin's getting pale, dip."

"look, pacifica," dipper speaks as he takes her hand, leading her down to his lab, "i need your help. you've got to take this journal, get as far away as you can from me, and bury it where nobody can ever hope to find it."

as he gives his instructions, dipper shoves a journal into his girlfriend's hands; on the cover is a blue pine tree with the number '2' printed on it.

candy was right. why would dipper need her to go away from him? what did that dummy do??

"wait, you can't just tell me to do whatever you want—especially getting away from you. why do you need me to do this?"

he opens his mouth, but pauses before answering: "i don't think i can tell you that."

she scoffs, "you're kidding. you can't tell me or you won't?"

"i'm serious, i'm not going to risk you knowing too much."

"that's a whole load and you know it. what about candy?" she asks, pointing a finger at him, "she's clearly capable of knowing more than me."

dipper sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "don't make this a whole ego thing, pacifica—"

"an ego thing?! i thought we were a team, dipper. i thought you trusted me! or was that nothing more than a bunch of words filled with empty promises?"

she angrily waves the journal, now pointing to it accusingly: "recently, you've been doing nothing but coop yourself down here and write in these dumb books of yours! i swear, these journals have probably gotten more action with your face than i have for the past few weeks. and after finally getting to see you in person for so long—you want to tell me to get away from you? sending me off like some sort of blind dog?!"

"it's not dumb, pacifica—it's dangerous!" dipper exclaims, losing patience with the blonde, "don't ever talk down on my research—"

"well, it must be so lame if you never want it to be seen again. in fact, i'm going to walk to the city dump right now—"

"pacifica, don't!"

as she walks away, dipper goes up to her, trying to tear the book from her hands.

"my life's work!"

as he hastily snatches the book from her grip, dipper gives her a single push of his hand while protecting the journal with the other.

pacifica yelps, losing her balance as she is forced backwards. the side of her head makes an impact with one of dipper's many machines, cutting into her skin before meeting the ground.

"oh my god, pacifica! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean—"

"stuff it, pines." she spats back, dismissing him with her hand. pacifica tries to recollect herself by getting herself off the ground and dusts her clothes.

she then looks directly into his eyes with pure disgust.

"if your work matters more than our relationship, if you don't even trust me enough to let me help you or even tell me what's going on, i'm done."

pacifica turns away from him again, but dipper calls out to her.

"pacifica, wait."

she only turns her head: "do you trust me, dipper?"

just like before, the room is filled with silence. only this time, pacifica doesn't get any reply.

so, she leaves his house for the final time, leaving dipper by himself.

hey mabel, um... is it okay if i could text dipper for a bit? need to ask him something real quick

summer is almost over, her thirteenth birthday is fast approaching, but it already seems like mabel pines' wishes are already coming true.

"DIPPER! PACIFICA'S ASKING FOR YOU! I THINK SHE WANTS TO GO ON A DATE!"

"WHAT?!"

dipper didn't find mabel's exaggeration amusing in the slightest. "it's not a date mabel, she just wants to hang at the lake—as friends."

"okay, so maybe i should join you guys. after all, we're all friends, right?" she shoots back, taunting him.

"no!" dipper objects, his voice squeaking; to which mabel smirk grows. going red in the face, he clears his throat before continuing: "i mean, since paz only asked for me—"

"i'm gonna ignore the fact that you're on pet-name terms now, but you do realize she only asked for you because she—i don't know—might be totally into you!"

his blush deepens at his sister’s accusation.

“c-c’mon! this is pacifica we’re talking about! she only just stopped hating our guts like, less than a couple weeks ago?”

“fine, but you’re still gonna hang with her today, right? she still needs a friend, bro-bro.”

dipper knew mabel was right, and even if she wasn’t as encouraging, a part of him deep down was genuinely looking forward to hang with pacifica one more time before his birthday and leaving gravity falls.

before summer ended and heading back into the unknown.

“help us, will! don’t forget i’m still your master!”

“don’t listen to him, you moldy nacho! i’m your master, not dipstick’s! obey me!”

“ENOUGH!”

the sound of will’s voice booms throughout the forest, bringing the town of gravity falls to a standstill. apart from the triangular demon, only the gleeful twins, pacifica, and gideon remained unfrozen

"i've had just enough of you two brats! generations of torment... well i'm sick of it. no longer is will cipher going to be a slave to the gleeful family! from now on—you guys are on your own! good luck taking over gravity falls without me, you weak flesh-sacks!"

the four children gasp, in shock at the enslaved demon's outrage. with a single snap, the mabel-bot goes powerless, causing it to go limp and tip over.

dipper and mabel clutch onto pacifica for dear life as the latter panics; trying to find a way to get to gideon as he is loosened from the metal grip, freefalling to his demise.

BOOM!

an electric, smoky bubble of blue bursts upon the mabel-bot’s impact on the ground, a ripple spreads throughout the town; bringing a gust of wind to the to the townsfolk.

because of the robot’s explosion, the people of gravity falls gather towards the source of the damage, where they don’t find bodies.

instead, they spot pacifica, mid-air, her hold on the grappling hook breaking her fall. dipper and gideon cling on to each of the blonde’s sides, with mabel’s arms wrapped over her brother’s shoulders from behind; nearly choking the gleeful twin.

as officers powers and trigger catch sight of the gleeful twins, they rush even closer to their aid.

"mabel! dipper! what happened?" trigger cries.

already pulling out the waterworks, mabel puts on her mask again: "it was southeast and pines! they tried to attack us and blew up our statues with dynamite! arrest them!"

dipper simply rolls his eyes as powers gets the handcuffs ready; gideon and pacifica gasp.

"officers, she's lying!" gideon exclaims.

"sorry kids," powers apologizes, "but we trust the gleefuls. and there's nothing short of a miracle that could ever—"

"okay, i'm getting tired of this," dipper deadpans, cutting off the officers. "pacifica southeast and the pines kid are innocent. we were the ones responsible behind the—"

"mason pines you shut your mouth right now!" mabel snaps, momentarily breaking through her façade, before realizing her slight error and giggles it off.

"heh, what i mean to say officers, is that my poor brother must be concussed and clearly has no idea what he's saying—heh—right, dipper?"

"hmm..." he hums, tapping his chin in thought, "i don't think so, i remember someone shoving me... causing me to fall from seventy feet high..."

staring at mabel, dipper gives a smirk her way before swiftly referring to the hand in his front pocket, revealing only a sliver of a small, black, flash drive.

then he leans close, whispering to his sister: "now wouldn't exactly be the best time to put our enemies incarcerated, mabel. don't forget who saved your butt from meeting death just a moment ago."

mabel growls for a moment, then takes a deep breath before she speaks again.

"as a matter of fact... it was all a misunderstanding, officers. gideon and pacifica were saving us," mabel explains, pulling gideon close to her for a peck on the cheek: "my heroes!"

it has been weeks since pacifica had left dipper's place for the last time, and obviously, the heartbroken blonde hadn't heard from the four-eyed dork.

good riddance, she thought bitterly. as if it was any surprise.

but as the days turn from weeks to months, pacifica knew she needed to leave the house. the fluorescent lights and chandeliers in her family mansion wasn't doing much to help her tan... but what to do...

she starts by walking to dusk2dawn, the same darn convenience store where she met her ex-boyfriend.

yeah, smart move there, northwest.

as pacifica reaches for the smile dip, mainly to take a closer look at it, she can't help but to overhear some commotion going on by the register.

"i've heard some strange stories about that old shack, strange and spooky experiments..."

"gosh, i'd pay anything to see what sort of shenanigans you've got going down in there."

no... could it be?

when the curious blonde sets down the smile dip and heads to the front, she couldn't believe her eyes on what's happening before her.

it was a woman. she looked like her ex-boyfriend. similar build, similar facial features. her appearance could easily mistake anybody for dipper, but the fact that this was clearly a woman kept pacifica's mind focused.

what is this lady doing here in gravity falls? why does she look like dipper pines?? and why is she claiming to live where he lives???

"what is your name, you madam of mystery?"

"uh ma—" the woman takes a brief pause, "mason pines. parents thought i would come out a boy, so you can call me dipper."

pacifica gasps, but covers her mouth to avoid drawing attention. she stumbles back, then rushes out of the store.

dipper, where are you?

"when are you going to start opening your gifts? i broke a nail wrapping mine."

as pacifica holds up her taped-up hands with an amused smirk, the pines twins laugh along, picking up their gifts—though none of them were from pacifica.

not that she minded. in fact, she hoped that no one else would watch as dipper got to opening her present. she didn't think it was much special, so it must've been embarrassing in comparison to the other gifts the twins will receive, especially after losing northwest manor to preserve their fortune—but she did put a lot of thought into them.

after selling her parents' yacht and her last pony, she hoped that the presents she prepared for both dipper and mabel would be enough. more than enough, ideally.

"oh, pacifica! i think this one is from you!"

dipper's voice pulls her out from her thoughts. he gives her a big smile as he holds up the gift box, which is evidently, poorly wrapped. everyone else sees this, all of them giving her looks.

unable to take all this attention, pacifica's cheeks flush red, rushing towards dipper before pulling him over to the side of the mystery shack.

"whoa, sorry! i didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed," he immediately apologizes to her, reassuring her that it was never his intention, "if it makes you feel any better, i did so much worse my very first time gift-wrapping."

the two share a laugh, followed by a single nudge from pacifica.

"just open it, dork."

"you don't have to tell me twice."

so, dipper rips his gift open, revealing a book with a written note placed on top of the cover.

something to go with that new journal mabel got for you - paz :)

"you got me a revised, updated copy of anomalous phenomena!? anomalous phenomena was one of the books grunkle ford studied after university! how did you get a hold of one of these?!"

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't ask around for help," pacifica answers, looking a bit bashful, "mabel suggested i talk to ford, and he told me about the book. apparently, fewer and fewer copies of the book get made with every revised edition, so i called in some favours. it did cost me my last pony and my parents' yacht, but after everything you've done for me—i mean, the town—it's worth it."

"pacifica..."

she really has changed, he thought. and to think, this was the same girl who bought her way to keep up her family's fraudulent past, who actively tried to humiliate his sister every chance she got.

it can't be, not since he can't see her that way anymore.

so, dropping the gifts to the ground, pacifica lets out a small yelp as she is caught off guard by dipper's arms wrapping around her; pulling her in for an embrace.

"thanks, paz. i couldn't have asked for a better birthday gift."

returning the hug, she rests her head on his shoulder. "don't mention it, dork."

i'm watching you

at the gleeful manor, dipper and mabel haven't been getting any sleep. not since they've brought will to the edge and emancipated himself from their family.

where will has been tortured day-by-day, he has generously returned the favour to the gleeful twins nightly.

but today, mabel isn't having it.

"ugh! how the hack can we defend ourselves against will if we only have the second journal?! everything we know, will has a way to counter-act it!"

"you know, if you keep pacing like that, you're going to burn a hole into the ground."

mabel stops pacing at her brother's words, noticing how much she actually had been pacing. she groans in frustration, all while dipper smiles into his phone.

"you know, instead of being completely useless, you could help me—considering will's going to be after you, too?"

"i could..." dipper chimes back, "but where's the fun in that?"

"are you implying that staring at those not-so-secret creepy photos you take of the southeast girl is more fun than helping me? your own sister??"

"pacifica saved our lives, mabel."

"you heard her—she's done with you. why don’t you just move on like the rest of the human race?"

but if there is anything to know about the gleefuls, it's that they are indeed stubborn.

“how could i have moved on when i’ve never been infatuated at all?”

as if the timing couldn't have been any more perfect, mabel's phone buzzes.

"besides, i suppose your recovery in getting over gideon has been going spendidly, is that correct?"

“you better watch that mouth of yours since will’s not around to protect it anymore,” mabel threatens, turning away from her twin and picks up her phone.

“looks like my widdle giddy-widdy’s going golfing with—” she shivers before finishing, “pacifica.”

dipper sighs, putting his phone down.

“i’ll call soos to bring the car up front.”

"thanks for visiting the mystery shack! come back soon!"

as dipper waves off the last customer of the day, she goes back inside to close the front door; turning the sign from 'OPEN' to 'CLOSED'.

what she didn't notice, however, was that there was a stranger out in the woods nearby... hiding in the bushes...

wait, it was not just any stranger...

"alright, you con-artist..."

pacifica mumbles to herself as she observes the shop owner as closely as she can, though the windows prove themselves a difficult task for the blonde.

"i don't know what you've done with my—i mean—the real dipper pines..."

the merchant remains on the sales floor, adjusting, tidying, and restocking product. it looks like... she has even more knick-knacks to display, and...

oh god, that does not look fashionable at all...

pacifica shakes her head, getting her focus back.

"i don't even know who you are... but i know you're not good news..."

she looks down at the notebook before her, filled with notes and sketches of some sort...

maybe you're not such a dummy after all... she thinks to herself, reminiscing her former partner, hopefully these parts of your research will be enough to find you...

pacifica reflects on one of her many dates with dipper, this one taking place in her room at northwest manor...

"whatcha working on there, dummy?"

pacifica's question pulls dipper out of his thoughts, turning away from the open notebook before him to face her. he chuckles before answering her.

"you'll see..." he replies as he concludes his notes, "... and there!"

upon finishing, dipper tucks his pen back in his pocket, closes the notebook shut, before handing it to his girlfriend.

"what... is this? you know i can't understand all this anomaly junk like you do..." she says, chuckling afterwards.

"you're selling yourself short, paz," he speaks as he places a hand on top of hers; which is on the notebook. "you're smarter than you realize. when you put your mind into things, you excel at them..."

he then looks back at her, making direct eye contact with his partner.

"... this isn't to say that i want you to get into this life with me... i could never force you to do what you are not interested in... but i have a feeling, paz. a gut feeling... that i may be getting in too deep, that i'm about to discover some truths that will come with dark consequences..."

"dipper... don't scare me like this..."

"sorry, pacifica. i didn't mean to... but it's the truth. this research of mine—i have a feeling that someday, i won't be as careful as i usually am... so when that happens..."

he looks back down at the notebook, causing pacifica to look down as well.

"let this notebook help you. it may not be as detailed as the journals—but this information is still important. i'm going to need someone that i can trust and count on to help me if i get myself in trouble."

she's silent for a moment, taking in her boyfriend's words: "... but you're gonna be safe, right? if this is very serious, maybe candy would be a better—"

"it has to be you, pacifica. i trust you."

as she finished her reminiscence, she looks back up from the notebook to the newly-opened 'mystery shack'—catching the right moment that dipper inputs some sort of code into the vending machine, creating a secret passage for her to enter through.

"i'm going to save you, dipper. i promise."

"so this is it... you're really leaving, huh?"

dipper is in shock to see pacifica northwest standing at the front door of the mystery shack as he is about to leave it for the final time this summer.

she looks at his bags, then back at him as she makes her comment: "i guess gravity falls is about to have two less dorks once again... heh, g-good riddance."

her voice trembles a bit toward the end of her words, clearly saddened by the twins' upcoming departure.

yet, dipper gives pacifica a soft smile in reassurance.

"it was bound to happen sooner or later... but you did it. you finally got rid of us, right?"

she sniffles, but gives a chuckle, "right."

"hey... it's not like we'll never talk again. we have each others' numbers—well, you have mabel's and we have yours. we'll always be a call away from each other."

pacifica's eyes begin to water, trying to keep up her act up: "ha! l-like i'd ever miss you or your weird sister..."

she crosses her arms, turning her head away, but he sees right through her.

pulling her in for a hug, he whispers in her ear.

"i'll miss you too, pacifica."

as a crowd gathers around pacifica, at the final hole, she gets her golf club ready; a determined look written across her face.

from afar, the gleeful twins and observe with two wildly different facial reactions: mabel's being of digust and unimpressed, while dipper looks rather bemused and intrigued.

as the golf ball makes it way through the final hole, it becomes merely inches away from a hole-in-one, which draws further attention from the gleefuls.

so close... so, so close... is it going to—

but right as dipper thinks about it, the ball misses the hole by some centimetres, swerving around it and landing in a muddy puddle.

"pathetic, isn't it, diphead?" mabel taunts, "anyways, it's about time to show that loser how a real golfer plays, right?"

dipper scoffs, "whatever."

with that, the gleeful twins make their appearance known to gideon and pacifica: mabel sucks up to gideon as usual, but he rejects her advances and reacts uncomfortably.

dipper goes back to his antics, as well. he steps closer to pacifica, taking a bow, as well as her hand. however, this time, she quickly pulls her hand back and gives him the cold shoulder.

"what gives, sunshine? c'mon, let me see that contagious, cute smile of yours, huh?"

pacifica doesn't say anything back, but only frowns deeper.

"can't you guys just leave us alone?" gideon asks, breaking the silence, "you two have been enough trouble for us this summer!"

then pacifica finally speaks up, only looking back at mabel: "and apparently now we can't even play golf without you two stereotypical horror-movie murderous magical twins lurking over us!"

mabel gasps in disgust, but dipper is dumbfounded... maybe even impressed?

"oh, it's so on."

oh, dipper... what have you done?

as he wakes up, dipper finds himself in... he can't even begin to describe his surroundings. though, to sum it all up in one word: unnatural. yeah, that's the word.

even though he could try to pin all the blame on her, deep down, dipper knew he had no one else to blame but himself for putting himself where he is right now.

"bill! you lied to me! where does that portal really lead?!"

"oh-ho! looks like mister brainiac finally got smart! let's just say, when that portal's complete—your dimension's gonna know how to party!"

"no, i'll stop you! i'll shut it down!"

"a deal's a deal, pine tree! you can't stop the bridge between our world from coming, but it would be fun to watch you try! cute even!"

good going, dipper! he berates himself in thought, internally facepalming, if you didn't build that dumb portal, you wouldn't even be in this mess!

after lamenting his current situation, dipper thinks of his loved ones, those that he's come to realize—he's just left behind.

pacifica... oh, god—pacifica...and █████... take care of yourselves, please.

in the first month since they've returned home in piedmont, dipper and mabel were stuck in a loop between sleeping and hour-long calls to friends back in gravity falls while bringing their parents into the loop of their family lore as well as going back to school.

sadly, they couldn't make time to talk to their grunkles as much as the likes of wendy and soos, but, given that the stan brothers needed time for themselves to catch up with each other, the mystery twins weren't bothered in the slightest.

in fact, there was so much that was happening—with melody permanently moving in with soos and his abuela to assist her boyfriend's new promotion in the mystery shack, wendy working less hours as she faces another year of hell— high school along with the rest of the group, and the friends of the twins who were closer in age also preparing their return to school.

"so..."

"you can stop smirking, dipstick, we both know i'm not enjoying this."

pacifica orders as she looks at her phone screen, currently on a video call with dipper... on mabel's phone, that is.

"c'mon, public school isn't as gross as you think it is, paz..."

"it's not just that... i just— i don't know how people will treat me... after, yunno..."

"hey," dipper smiles empathetically, trying to reassure her, "we've been over this. candy and grenda promised they'd take care of you and have your back."

"i know, i know..." she waves it off, knowing all that worry to be a waste of energy, "it's all too surreal though... like i'm trying to wrap my head around it. after all, a lot has changed for the northwests since we've had to sell the mansion."

"well, at least you can take this fresh start with a sense of pride, right? you could change what it means to be a northwest. make something honest of yourself and bring truth to your heritage. you were the chosen one!"

pacifica giggles at dipper's clichéd humour, "speaking of... lazy suzan said she'd be glad to take me in. something about needing an extra set of hands at the diner—another pretty girl to reel in some empty stomachs with full wallets."

"she's not getting any younger, right?" he asks.

"more like, she could only handle so many customers at a time."

"you'd make a pretty cute waitress, greasy's won't know what hit 'em."

heat instantly rises in pacifica's cheeks at dipper's sudden comment, immediately taken aback by his words.

although it looks as if dipper didn't fully register what he was saying either, as his facial reaction practically mirrored pacifica's as soon as the words left his mouth.

"you're getting too clever at sucking up for your own good... before you know it, i'll be hearing about a new girlfriend by the time you come back to gravity falls, huh?"

pacifica tucks a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, revealing more of her face along with her signature purple hoop earring; to which dipper's blush intensifies.

"maybe... it's not a bad thing, right?"

"i will sue you! i will sue you and i will own you!"

gideon, pacifica, and dipper share a victorious look as mabel threatens the lilliputtians from the outside of the gold course. though, those looks were wiped off their faces as soon as the latter turns back to look at them.

"look, i don't have any idea what just happened right now," mabel speaks, pointing a finger at pacifica, "but if you think—"

the guilt-ridden blonde cuts off the angry mage, handing her a turquoise-colored sticker with bubbly text which reads 'i a-paw-logize', featuring a mini illustration of a small—yet adorable—puppy.

"i'm sorry mabel," pacifica apologizes, rubbing her arm in shame, "i should've let you beat me fair-and-square."

mabel looks down at the sticker in her hand, inspecting it with a look of indifference as she raises her eyebrow. then, after a small moment, she looks back up at her arch-rival; reverting back to her casual behaviour, but visibly calmer.

she replies as she pats the sticker on her teal polo, "you're just lucky this sticker looks good on me."

pacifica smiles, a sense of hope and the idea of finally leaving this feud between them in the past. although mabel isn't as joyous, a hint of a grin graces her face, showing that the feeling is mutual.

then, a tap on the former's shoulder along with the sound of someone clearing their throat causes pacifica to turn around, finding the other gleeful twin holding a rose, looking more shy and sympathetic than he's ever been in his life.

"i believe i owe you an apology as well, sunshine," dipper says nervously, "it wasn't right to toy with someone's feelings, especially somebody who's kindhearted as you—"

"can it, gleeful." pacifica cuts off coldly, which is rather out of character for the bubbly blonde.

"you've got to try harder if you think i'm trusting you again."

twenty years have passed...

twenty years since dipper had mysteriously disappeared... the real dipper pines, that is...

and as much as pacifica hated to admit it... the search for her former partner is getting more and more difficult with each passing day.

when she looks at herself in the mirror first thing in the morning, she doesn't even recognize herself anymore, but it wasn't her looks she was thinking about... in fact, she aged gracefully and managed to stay as radiant as ever.

though, as someone who's been self-absorbed in their personal vanity throughout their whole life, pacifica doesn't see the point anymore. what's a couple wrinkles compared to losing someone who actually meant something to her?

so instead of the natural blonde that remains in her hair, or her designer top, pacifica looks into her eyes and sees someone who's stopped living twenty years ago.

in her reflection, pacifica sees nothing more than a shell of who she used to be.

however, today, she decides to try something different. since she's heard word of the new twins that have come to town, descendants of 'dipper' that are staying in gravity falls for the summer.

especially the six-fingered child. something about him reminds pacifica of the man she once dated—but she can't put her finger on it...

she goes to her walk-in closet, rummaging through the deepest corners to pull out... a-ha!

it wasn't anything special, no name to it, unlike her designer top, but the worn-out, slightly oversized cotton orange shirt brought some warmth to pacifica's cheeks as well as a heartfelt smile.

so, she replaces her slim-fitting lavender top with the worn-out shirt. seriously, it's a miracle how this shirt hasn't managed to get any moth holes in it or gradually fall apart after multiple washes...

then again, as long as that shirt's in pacifica's care, she can take care of that shirt for as long as she's willing to.

she has to—because it means that one day, he'll come back, and who knows if he needs something decent to wear.

after a few more months pass since the young pines twins have returned home, christmas has come to both piedmont and gravity falls—and though the feeling is supposed to be merry all around, it's not exactly the case for either dipper and mabel this holiday season.

with the possibility of their parents' separation being more and more of a reality each day, it's also becoming more and more difficult to keep spirits up—even for the shooting star.

but not all hope is lost—because today, the pines family has gone out to do their christmas shopping, and mabel was obviously looking forward to restocking on yarn for more sweaters to knit for her friends and family back in oregon.

dipper on the other hand, was stuck. not only did he not have the slightest clue on what to get for the others, but his mind was simply too pre-occupied with his parents' situation to even distract himself by consumerist indulgence.

"hel-lo! earth to dipper!"

the sound of mabel's voice was enough to pull her brother from his thoughts.

"c'mon bro-bro, i'm all stocked on yarn but you haven't touched anything yet... what gives?"

he sighs, clearly not interested in talking about their current familial situation, "i just... don't know what to get anyone. stan and ford are practically neck-deep with treasure, soos and melody are more interested in raising funds to improve the shack, wendy and her family are visiting relatives out-of-town, and pacifica—"

"ooh, pacifica~" mabel teases in a singsongy tone, smirking.

dipper blushes, but continues: "pacifica has everything. well, she lost all her ponies and the yacht after weirdmaggedon, but what do you get someone who has the money to get anything?"

as he crosses his arms, dipper leans back against a nearby wall and sinks down to the ground; bowing his head into his arms as if suggesting defeat.

so, mabel sits down as well, placing a hand on his shoulder: "dipper, you're the smart one here. if i was the one upset about being unable to find the right gift, what would you say?"

he raises his head slightly, giving only a peek at his sister: "i dunno, something about how christmas shouldn't be about gifts, but the people you care about?"

"ding-ding-ding!" she cheers, smiling proudly.

"okay, but it doesn't change anything. stan and ford are probably still out in the middle of the atlantic or pacific ocean or whatever, wendy's not even in town, and everyone else is with their own families. so what does that solve?"

the once bright, encouraging grin on mabel's face begins to falter, disheartened by dipper's sadness.

however, he catches sight of this, beginning to feel worse by his own actions. after all, his sister was only trying to lift his spirits and make him feel better. he told her what had been going on between their parents before they left for gravity falls in the beginning of the summer, and she's been trying to look at the bright side even more than usual.

this christmas might've not been perfect, but mabel was trying to make the most of it... maybe dipper should as well.

"i'm sorry, mabel. i've been too much of a buzzkill. the holidays have just been sucky this year... we've never known our family outside of california, but now that we do, i guess i wish we could've gotten together this year. things haven't been great since mom and dad... yunno... and things aren't getting better..."

"i know, dipper." mabel says, a mix of bitterness and disappointment in her voice.

"—but we have each other. we've had each other our whole lives, so at least there's one thing that can save this christmas from completely being the worst."

mabel sniffles, holding back her tears as she smiles at her brother.

"let's go home, bro-bro... i have a feeling that it'll feel better being there than at the mall."

so, the pines family leave the mall, returning home to rest before dinner. while mabel is beginning to knit sweaters for candy and grenda with the help of waddles, dipper plays dungeons, dungeons, and more dungeons with their father; leaving their mother to cook dinner for the family.

however, beknownst to her children, mrs. pines prepares a dinner that is definitely much more than four stomachs to fill.

as the family is occupied with their own activities, the ring of the doorbell along with a knock at the front door gets the attention of everyone in the household.

"dipper, mabel, could one of you please get the door?" their mother asks, remaining at the stove.

"not it!"

"not it—augh."

mr. pines smiles at his son amusedly, nudging his head towards the door.

"maybe next time, dip."

getting up from the floor, dipper walks towards the front door.

who could it be? he asks in thought, it wouldn't make sense if it was a food delivery, especially when's mom's already cooking.

nevertheless, dipper turns the doorknob, to which he's met with—

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

he couldn't believe it.

"grunkle stan?! grunkle ford?! soos?! melody?!"

as their names take mabel away from her knitting, she dashes towards the front; squealing and jumping into the arms of her grunkles.

"you've made it! you really made it!"

dipper, taken aback by his sister's words, asks, "mabel, what are you talking about? they never told us they were coming."

"correction, bro-bro: they never told you they were coming," mabel says, "but actually, they didn't tell me they were coming—not if i was the one to invite them over!"

"what?! what about mom and dad?"

"why do you think mom's been cooking a lot since we got back home?"

the sound of their dad's voice causes dipper to turn around. jaw dropping, his shock intensifies as he realizes that their parents were in it too.

"we totally got you dude!" soos exclaims, laughing with melody, "just look at the look on your face!"

"what about candy? grenda?? wendy???" mabel asks excitedly, tugging on stan's dress-shirt.

"sorry, pumpkin," stan apologies nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "of course they wanted to come over, but they have their own families to spend the holidays with. i hope you're not too upset, honey."

"besides, you still have one friend who'd rather drop dead than spend christmas with her own family, anyways."

as the four visitors step aside, another familiar face is revealed to be in their company.

same old blonde bangs and bouffant, same atlantic eyes, but in place of her signature purple eyeshadow, she wears silver with a subtle red to frame her eyelids paired with a slightly-muted matte red lipstick. instead of her diamond-shaped earrings, are diamond-encrusted snowflakes, her classic purple outfit replaced with a lake foam green chiffon dress stopping at the knee with a fur wrap that is white as snow, finally completing the look with a pair of pumped-up silver louboutins (remember, pacifica is less rich, not flat-out broke).

"pacifica?" dipper says, his cheeks turning into a very faint pink.

"lied to my parents that i was going to the bahamas with tiffany, alexis, and tiffany's parents—thank god they make good alibis."

mabel's squeals cut off the blonde as she rushes over to her old enemy-turned-frenemy-turned-friend; the former pulling the latter into a crushing hug.

"AHH! PACIFICA!!" mabel screams in excitement. "i'm so glad you're here with us for christmas!"

"so, you must be the pacifica our mabel and dipper have been telling us about," mrs. pines approaches, rubbing her hands off on a kitchen towel, "i've heard a lot of things about you."

the child's eyes widen, immediately turning bashful: "um, more good things than bad, right?"

"of course," mr. pines answers, "we knew mabel would take a liking to you, but dipper? well, i—"

"okay!" dipper intervenes, laughing rather too loudly for comfort. he takes pacifica's hand, leading her into their home. "i think that's enough of that! everyone, come in!"

pacifica giggles at the boy's awkwardness, her cheeks growing a tad warm.

"glad to see you too, nerd."

"my wittle giddy-widdy! i need your help—"

"you're the worst."

and with that, gideon shuts the door, already heading back to the armchair before he hears the same pounding on the front door a second time.

"mabel?! let me answer!" pacifica beams in excitement, causing gideon to shrug and continue to make his way back to the television.

"go nuts," he deadpans.

"hey, mabel!" pacifica waves, smiling brightly, "what brings you here?"

"oh, hey pacifica," mabel replies, instantly losing her enthusiasm, "there's something haunting gleeful manor—"

"it's true, sunshine," dipper says, smiling at her, "if your cousin can't help us, our party could be ruined."

"okay, first of all, you're the worst." pacifica narrows her eyes, glaring daggers at the gleeful brother before turning back to his twin, "the party? you mean the same party your family throws at gleeful manor every year?!"

"yes, this party," mabel answers indifferently.

"hmm..." the blonde hums, tapping her chin in false thought, "i suppose i can convince gideon to help you guys."

"really?!" mabel asks, suddenly beaming.

"i guess..." pacifica draws out in response, "but in exchange, he's going to need three extra tickets to the party."

"what?!"

gideon's attention breaks away from the television once more, returning to the front door to clarify what he just heard. he tugs his cousin's arm, pulling her aside to speak to her in private.

"pazzy, these are the gleefuls! the same pair of twins who tried to kill us earlier this summer?!" he says in a hushed voice.

"but it's tiffany and alexis' dream!" she explains.

the two then turn to pacifica's friends, still by the television.

"DREAM~"

gideon then sighs in defeat, turning back to dipper and mabel.

"you heard her, it's three tickets or nothing."

"aah! i don't understand—what could i have possibly done to warrant this much arrest?!"

today's the day. after twenty years, pacifica had finally done it. she had caught that imposter; resolving the last piece in the puzzle to bring back dipper pines.

stepping outside of the government-owned vehicle, she joins agents lee rianda and nate menville, smiling victoriously as an officer pins the person identifying as 'dipper pines' onto the hood of the car, placing handcuffs onto her wrists.

agent menville takes out a tablet, displaying it in front of the felon, revealing footage of a government waste facility.

"at 0400 hours last night, we've noticed footage of an unknown party stealing three hundred gallons of hazardous waste."

"that's not me!"

pacifica, having just about enough of this con-artist's cover-up, steps up, raising a finger, pushing dipper's chin up.

"don't play dumb, pines. we all know it's you. you're as guilty as stealing that nuclear waste just as much as you're guilty for committing identity theft and causing a disappearance!"

the northwest was by no means, as smart as her ex-partner, but she used her strengths where they were needed.

she had connections. people she knew who specialized in genealogy, the kind of people who could scientifically prove that the apprehended woman before everyone wasn't really the person she claimed to be.

because of this, the evidence made the poor woman all the more incriminating to the government agents; fueling the grounds on which she were to be arrested for.

"miss northwest, you're making a mistake! sure, grauntie dipper might shoplift the occasional sticker sheet here and there, but she wouldn't make herself a threat to national security."

feeling guilty for the confusion and childlike naïvety that the young stanley pines was experiencing, she walks over to him, squatting down to his level and placing a empathetic hand on his shoulder.

"look, hon, these guys may have been watching your grauntie all summer—but i've known about her ever since i've moved here. i know i've been nothing but civil to you ever since you boys have come to town, but what you need to know is that your grauntie is not what she seems."

"you're lying!" stan accuses, pointing a finger up at her. "a-are you?"

"i wish i was... but the truth is... uglier than i'd like to talk about."

A/N: that's the end of the first part! if you want more, don't worry! i have a lot more coming! unfortunately, i reached the limit of 30 photos per post, so i'm going to have to make this a two-parter! basically, what i wanted to do here is work on three arcs in one! the thing that i really love about gravity falls, really comes down the endless possibilities! i've heard so much about the reverse falls au, but the relativity falls au is also brand-new to me. also, when it comes down to it, i really am just a sucker for multiverses (one of my first gravity falls fanfics was a crossover between this show and rick and morty—it was for a creative writing class in high school). i'm not sure if i'm 100% certain if i'm going to post the second part, because if anything, this was mainly me yapping about how i see dipcifica becoming official in not just the canon universe, but also the other au's i've included here. but if this turns out to be interesting for you guys, i might as well try to finish it.

in the meantime—please please please tell me what you think of this! i wanna know about your guys' interpretations of dipcifica in both canon+other au's! or maybe just other au's in general, since there are slightly different interpretations in both relative and relativity falls... i noticed that i've had more fun writing relativity falls, probably because that au is more new to me than reverse falls...

now that i'm yapping here, i gotta cut this short and get into the next part of this... fic?

and if you actually read through all this and got to this part—thank you so much :') it's been fun writing this so far, especially since this has heavily distracted me from the pain of my wisdom teeth extractions.

[theonottsbxtch]

COURAGE | OP81

an: i warn you ahead of time this faces the topic of substance abuse, if you or anyone you know needs help, please feel free to talk to me or here are links for who to talk to: united kingdom, united states, canada, europe. these are some of the links i've found, if you need help searching for one, my inbox is always open!

warnings: substance abuse, religous themes, mentions of death & hospitals.

wc: 4.6k

The church bells rang out over the small town of Willow Creek, their low hum rolling through the autumn air like a solemn hymn. Oscar stood at the edge of his front porch, adjusting the cuffs of his Sunday shirt as he waited for her. He always waited for her.

She emerged moments later from her house next door, pulling her shawl tighter against the chill. The hem of her modest dress caught the breeze, brushing against her knees as she approached. She didn’t say much, she never did on Sundays. Her gaze, solemn and steady, flicked toward the church steeple visible from the end of the street.

“Ready?” Oscar asked, though he already knew the answer.

She nodded, her braid catching the sunlight as they started down the gravel path.

The girl was his best friend, his constant, the one person in this quiet town who felt as real to him as the chipped paint on his window frame or the threadbare pews at St. Anne’s.

Their routine was always the same: church in the morning, quiet afternoons spent sitting on his porch or hers, talking about scripture or nothing at all. It was an existence that felt safe and good, built on a foundation as steady as the faith they shared.

But something had shifted in her lately. He couldn’t place it, not exactly. She still walked with him to church. She still bowed her head during the prayers, her lips moving silently along with the hymns. But her eyes were somewhere else, distant and restless, as though her thoughts had wandered too far and couldn’t find their way home.

“I heard Father O’Connell mention the youth retreat next month,” Oscar said, breaking the silence as they neared the church steps. “He said he’s hoping for a big turnout this year. Are you thinking of going?”

She hesitated. The pause was brief, but it was there, and Oscar caught it like a pebble in his shoe.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Then she offered him a faint smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll see.”

Oscar didn’t press her. He never did. But as they entered the church, he couldn’t help but notice the way her hand lingered at the edge of her shawl, clutching it like a tether.

It started with small things.

Oscar didn’t think much of it when she skipped their afternoon talks one Sunday. Her mum had said she wasn’t feeling well, and that made sense. People got sick; life happened. But then she missed the next Sunday, too. And the one after that.

She stopped coming to the Wednesday youth group meetings at church, which was even stranger. For as long as he could remember, she’d been one of the first to volunteer for scripture readings or help organise bake sales. Now, her name wasn’t even on the signup sheets.

Oscar wanted to ask her about it, but he couldn’t figure out how. It wasn’t like they had a friendship built on confrontation. They’d grown up side by side in the same pews, their lives as intertwined as the ivy creeping up the churchyard walls. But it was a quiet bond, one where words weren’t always necessary.

That’s what made the silence feel so loud.

One Friday afternoon, after work, Oscar saw her for the first time in weeks. She was sitting on the front steps of her house, legs crossed, the heel of her shoe tapping a restless rhythm against the wood.

“Hey,” he called as he approached, hands in his pockets. “Haven’t seen you around.”

She looked up, her expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Busy. The word felt wrong coming from her, like a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong spot.

“Your mum said you were sick,” he said, testing the waters.

Her eyes flickered, just for a moment. “Yeah. That too.”

He leaned against the porch railing, watching her closely. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t pin it down. Her braid was still neat, her dress still modest, but the way she sat—loose, almost careless—was unfamiliar.

“You coming to youth group next week?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

She shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like she was seeing through him instead of at him.

“Just not my thing right now,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice he didn’t recognise.

Oscar frowned. “You’ve been going for years.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, standing abruptly. “People change.”

And just like that, she disappeared inside, leaving Oscar alone on the porch with the sound of her footsteps echoing in his ears.

Over the next few weeks, Oscar saw less and less of her. When he did see her, she wasn’t the same.

The first time he noticed the guy, it was at the diner on Main Street. She was sitting in a booth near the window, her back to him, but he recognised her laugh instantly. She wasn’t alone.

The guy was tall, older, with a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. He leaned in close when he talked to her, his hand brushing her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oscar stood outside the diner for a long time, watching them through the glass.

When she turned her head and laughed again, Oscar caught a glimpse of her face. There was something wild in her expression, something unrestrained and electric. It scared him.

He didn’t tell her he’d seen her. He wasn’t sure why.

But the next Sunday, when her mum stopped him on his way to church, the worry in her eyes told him she’d seen it too.

“Have you talked to her?” her mum asked, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “She’s… I don’t know what’s going on with her. She won’t talk to me.”

Oscar didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sure it’s just a phase,” he offered weakly.

Her mum smiled, but it was the kind of smile people gave at funerals.

“I hope so,” she said.

The next time Oscar saw her, it wasn’t at church or on her front porch. It was behind the convenience store on Elm Street, just after dusk.

He had been walking home, the kind of mindless stroll he often took when his thoughts got too loud. The streets were mostly empty, the only sounds the faint hum of a streetlamp and the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes.

He heard her before he saw her. Laughter—sharp, jagged, and nothing like the laugh he remembered. It came from the alley behind the store, followed by the low murmur of voices.

Oscar turned the corner, and there she was.

She leaned against the brick wall, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The glow of the lighter in the guy’s hand caught her face just long enough for Oscar to see the hollow beneath her eyes, the strange way her smile curled at the edges, like she wasn’t entirely sure it belonged there.

The guy was the same one from the diner, older and out of place in this small town. He said something to her, and she threw her head back in laughter, her voice ringing out into the quiet night.

Oscar froze. She looked so different. Her braid was gone, her hair loose and tangled, framing a face that seemed sharper, thinner. Her clothes were casual but careless, like she’d grabbed the first things within reach. She didn’t look like the girl he’d grown up with—the girl who bowed her head in prayer and scolded him when he skipped scripture reading. She looked like someone else entirely.

The guy noticed Oscar first. He smirked, nudging her with his elbow. “Friend of yours?”

She turned her head, her smile fading when she saw him. For a moment, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe, or shame—but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharper than he expected.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his throat dry.

She rolled her eyes and took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold air. “It’s none of your business, Oscar.”

“It is my business,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re my friend.”

She laughed, but it was a brittle sound, lacking any real warmth. “Yeah, well, friends don’t follow each other around like lost puppies.”

Oscar felt the words like a slap, but he didn’t back down. “This isn’t you,” he said quietly. “What are you doing with him?”

The guy smirked again, clearly enjoying the tension. “Relax, man. She’s fine.”

“No one asked you,” Oscar snapped, his voice louder than he intended.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to it.” He handed her the lighter, brushing her fingers with his in a way that made Oscar’s stomach turn, and walked off down the alley.

She didn’t look at Oscar right away. Instead, she stared at the lighter in her hand, turning it over like it was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, her voice softer but still distant. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You’re not fine,” Oscar said, his frustration bubbling over. “You’ve stopped coming to church. You won’t talk to your mum. And now you’re…” He trailed off, gesturing helplessly toward the cigarette still in her hand.

She sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I don’t need a lecture, okay? I get enough of that at home.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I just… I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

Her gaze flicked to his, and for a brief moment, he saw something raw in her eyes—pain, anger, maybe even fear. But then she blinked, and the mask was back.

“Maybe I’m tired of being the perfect little Catholic girl,” she said, her tone light but cutting. “Did you ever think of that?”

Oscar stared at her, searching for the girl he knew beneath the stranger in front of him. “This isn’t you,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

She pushed off the wall, brushing past him. “Maybe you never really knew me.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving him standing alone in the alley, the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.

That night, Oscar lay awake, staring at the cracks in his ceiling. He wanted to help her, to pull her out of whatever dark place she’d fallen into, but he didn’t know how. She wouldn’t let him.

For the first time in years, he prayed not for himself, but for her.

“God,” he whispered into the stillness of his room. “Please. Bring her back.”

It became a pattern.

Oscar would see her slipping further away, each time a little less like the girl he had grown up with and a little more like a stranger. Sometimes it was behind the convenience store. Other times he saw her stumbling out of a car that didn’t belong in their quiet town, the headlights cutting through the dark as it sped off, leaving her swaying on the curb.

She wasn’t hiding it anymore.

When their paths crossed now, she barely looked at him. Her words, when she offered any, were short and cold, like she was daring him to stop caring. But he couldn’t stop.

So he prayed.

Every night, he knelt by his bed, his hands clasped tightly together, his eyes shut so hard it hurt. He prayed for her to come back, for her to see what she was doing to herself. He prayed for the strength to find the right words, the right actions, anything to pull her out of this spiral. But every morning, when he saw her again—laughing too loud, her eyes bloodshot and empty—it felt like no one was listening.

One night, well past midnight, there was a knock on his window. He woke with a start, his heart pounding, and stumbled to open it. She was standing there, her hair tangled and wild, her face streaked with something he couldn’t tell if it was makeup or tears.

“You need to stop,” she said, her voice slurred but venomous.

“Stop what?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“Praying for me,” she snapped. “I know you’re doing it. Just… stop.”

Her words stung, but what hurt more was the way she looked at him—like he was the enemy. Before he could respond, she turned and disappeared into the night, leaving him standing in the cold.

A week later, it was her mum who knocked—not on his window, but on his door.

Oscar opened it to find her standing on the porch, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She looked older than he’d ever seen her, like the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders and wouldn’t let go.

“Hi, Ms,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

She didn’t move. Instead, she stood there, clutching the edge of her sweater like it was the only thing keeping her together. “Oscar,” she began, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

He felt his stomach sink. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s her,” she said, her voice cracking. “She’s… I don’t know what’s happening to her. She barely comes home anymore. And when she does…” She broke off, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Oscar didn’t need her to finish. He’d seen it all himself.

“I’ve tried talking to her,” Her mother continued, her words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve begged her to stop, to come back to church, to tell me what’s going on, but she won’t listen. She doesn’t even look at me anymore. And now…” She trailed off again, her shoulders shaking as tears filled her eyes.

Oscar reached out instinctively, placing a hand on her arm. “Ms…”

She shook her head, brushing his hand away. “I don’t know what to do, Oscar. She’s slipping away from me, and I can’t stop it. I thought maybe you could… I don’t know. Talk to her. Get through to her. She listens to you, doesn’t she?”

The desperation in her voice was like a knife in his chest.

“She used to,” he admitted, his throat tight. “But not anymore. She won’t let me help her. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so many times.”

Her face crumpled, and she let out a sob, covering her face with her hands. “She’s all I have,” she choked out. “It’s just me and her. I don’t know how to do this alone.”

Oscar hesitated, his heart breaking at the sight of her. He wanted to promise her that he could fix everything, that he’d bring her daughter back, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

Instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment, then broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his own voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, the house silent except for her quiet, broken cries.

When she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes, she gave him a look so full of raw hope it made his chest ache. “Please, Oscar,” she said. “Don’t give up on her.”

He nodded, though his heart was heavy with doubt. “I won’t.”

But as he watched her walk back across the front garden to her house, the weight of the promise settled over him like a stone. He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want saving.

So that night, like every night before, he knelt by his bed and prayed.

“God,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling. “Please. Show me what to do.”

That night the ringing of his phone jolted Oscar out of a restless sleep. For a moment, he thought it was his alarm, but the screen glowed faintly in the dark: Unknown Number.

He rubbed his eyes and answered, his voice groggy. “Hello?”

The sound on the other end wasn’t words at first. It was crying—deep, heaving sobs that clawed at his chest before he even recognised her voice.

“It’s me,” she managed between gasps.

Oscar sat up so quickly the blankets slid off his lap. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I’m… I’m at this party, and I—I took something, and now I can’t—” Her voice cracked, and she let out another sob. “I feel so weird, Oscar. I feel like I’m dying.”

His heart dropped. “You’re not dying,” he said quickly, already grabbing his keys from the nightstand. “You’re not. I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are.”

She mumbled the address through her tears, barely coherent, but he caught enough to recognise the street. It was across town, the kind of neighborhood he tried to avoid.

“Stay where you are,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.”

He hung up and bolted for the door, his chest tight with fear.

The streets were eerily quiet as he sped through town, the glow of his headlights slicing through the darkness. His mind raced faster than the car, flashing through every worst-case scenario he could imagine. He gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his foot pressing harder on the gas.

When he turned onto the street, he knew he was in the right place. Cars were lined haphazardly along the curb, some with doors still hanging open. Music blared from the house, but the sound was disjointed, chaotic.

And then he saw them.

A wave of people surged out the front door, spilling into the front garden and onto the street. They were shouting, laughing, some tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Oscar pulled over and jumped out of the car, his heart pounding.

“What’s going on?” he yelled at one of them, grabbing a guy by the arm.

“Cops are coming,” the guy slurred, shaking him off. “Some girl OD’d, man. It’s bad.”

Oscar didn’t wait to hear more. He shoved his way through the crowd, pushing against the flow of bodies until he reached the front door. The smell hit him first—alcohol, smoke, and something sour underneath.

Inside, the scene was chaos. The music was still blaring, but most of the partygoers were gone, leaving behind overturned cups and broken bottles. He stepped over a pile of discarded coats and followed the sound of a frantic voice.

In the living room, he found her.

She was lying on the floor, her face pale, looking like nothing he’d ever seen before. A girl about their age was kneeling beside her, pressing her hands against her chest in a desperate rhythm.

“Come on,” the girl muttered, her voice shaking. “Come on, don’t do this.” She glanced up briefly, her phone pressed to her ear. “Yeah, I’m doing compressions,” she said into the receiver. “Please, hurry.”

Oscar froze for a moment, the sight stealing the air from his lungs. She looked so small, so fragile. Her hair was damp with sweat, her lips tinged blue.

The girl performing CPR looked up again, her eyes wild. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help?”

Her words jolted him into motion. He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands trembling as he reached for her. “What happened?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” the girl snapped. “She took something—pills, I think. Someone said it was laced, but I don’t know with what.” 

Oscar’s hands hovered uselessly over her, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never been trained for this, never thought he’d need to be.

But he knew he needed to do something, looking at the girl in front of him, he watched her hands and pushed them aside, continuing for her. 

“She went upstairs to take a phone call, walked back in and collapsed.” The girl sat back on her heels, then leaned forward to blow two breaths into her mouth. “They thought it was a joke at first, but it all got so serious all of a sudden.” Oscar continued the same rhythm on her chest, watching as the girl flexed her hands nervously. Underneath his breath, he was silently praying that someone was listening, because in the last couple of weeks he was beginning to lose faith. No one listened to him when he was desperate, begging for someone to save her.

“Stay with me,” the other girl murmured, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “Don’t you dare give up.”

The distant wail of sirens broke through the chaos, growing louder with every passing second. Relief flooded Oscar’s chest, but it was fleeting. He looked down at her pale, lifeless face and felt the weight of every prayer he’d ever whispered.

“God,” he said under his breath, his voice breaking. “Please. Don’t take her.”

The sirens grew deafening as the paramedics burst through the door. Oscar was pulled back, forced to watch as they took over, their voices calm but urgent as they worked to save her.

He didn’t realise he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips.

As they loaded her onto a stretcher and wheeled her out the door, Oscar followed, his legs unsteady but his resolve firm. He wasn’t leaving her—not now, not ever.

He watched them close the doors of the back of the ambulance and ran back to his car to follow them when he saw the girl weakly walk out of the house. He could have just left her, but she had just saved his best friend’s life. Instead, he walked back up to the house, hugged her and offered her a lift.

When Oscar finally got to the hospital, it was cold and quiet in a way that felt wrong, like it was holding its breath. Oscar sat in the hard plastic chair next to her bed, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped tightly together. He had barely spoken to anyone since they arrived, giving only short, clipped answers to the nurses’ questions.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at her pale face, willing her to wake up. The IV in her arm looked too big, too intrusive, and the steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

Finally, her eyelids fluttered.

He shot upright, his breath catching as she groaned softly, her head turning toward him. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and heavy, but when they landed on him, recognition flickered.

“Oscar?” she croaked, her voice barely audible.

Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let out a shaky laugh that was more relief than joy. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He never cursed. 

She blinked, her gaze shifting to the IV in her arm, the sterile hospital room around her. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, his voice breaking.

She shook her head weakly, then winced. “I… I don’t know. I was at the party, and then…” Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowing as if the memory was too painful to touch.

Oscar leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice low but trembling. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you? You could’ve—” He stopped himself, his chest heaving as he swallowed back the lump in his throat.

This wasn’t what she needed to hear.

She looked away, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I didn’t think it would…”

Oscar let out a shuddering breath, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I lost you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

They sat in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them.

A nurse came in not long after, checking her vitals and saying she’d be discharged soon. Oscar nodded numbly, his mind already racing.

When they stepped out of the hospital, the chill of the early morning air hit them both. He helped her to the car, her steps unsteady, and buckled her into the passenger seat. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes glassy and distant.

“I’ll call your mum,” he said, turning the key in the ignition.

“No,” she said quickly, her voice hoarse but firm.

Oscar paused, his hand on the wheel. “I need to tell her. I stopped the hospital from calling her.”

“Please, don’t,” she said, her voice breaking. She turned to him, her eyes pleading. “I can’t face her right now.”

He hesitated, the conflict written all over his face. “What do you want me to do?” he asked finally, his voice soft.

“Just drive,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

So he did.

They didn’t talk as the car rumbled down the empty highway. The radio was off, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of her shifting in her seat.

She didn’t cry, but her silence was heavy, and Oscar didn’t push her. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.

After a couple of hours, her breathing evened out, and when he glanced over, he saw that she’d fallen asleep, her face turned toward him, her expression soft but exhausted.

He sighed, his chest aching with a mix of relief and sadness. He took the next exit and drove toward her house.

When they arrived, it was still early, the sky a pale gray as dawn broke. He parked in front of her house, then got out and walked around to her side. Carefully, he opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt, slipping an arm under her knees and another around her back.

She stirred slightly as he lifted her, but she didn’t wake. Her head lolled against his chest, and he carried her up the porch steps and knocked softly on the door.

It swung open almost immediately, and her mum stood there, her face a mixture of worry and exhaustion. When she saw her daughter in his arms, she let out a strangled cry, her hands flying to her mouth.

“She’s okay,” Oscar said quickly, his voice gentle. “She’s just sleeping.”

Her mum nodded, tears streaming down her face. She stepped aside, and he carried her inside, laying her gently on the sofa.

Her mother sank to her knees beside her, sobbing quietly as she brushed the hair from her daughter’s face. “Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at Oscar. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

Oscar knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She’s going to be okay,” he said softly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

They sat there for a while, her mum’s quiet cries filling the silence.

Eventually, Oscar cleared his throat. “Do you have a spare set of sheets?” he asked.

She looked at him, confused. “Why?”

“I’m going to stay,” he said. “Just for tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Her mum nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice breaking.

Later, after setting up a makeshift bed on the floor beside the couch, Oscar lay there, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet now, her mum having gone to bed, but he could hear her breathing softly above him.

He closed his eyes and whispered another prayer, one of gratitude this time.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for giving her another chance.”

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like someone was listening.

the end.

[xxmooxmooxx]

irritable. ~ s.r. x fem reader.

MDNI 18+ ONLY

- told from spencer’s pov

prompt: Spencer accidentally sees y/n secret nsfw twt account and is struggling dealing with working along side her now.

warnings: angry Spence, nsfwtwt, mentions of sex, sex toys, perv! Spencer if you squint your eyes, age gap, lmk if im missing anything :)

a/n: BLURB! not a v long story. my first Spencer fic AND my first time writing smut. NOW reader and Spencer don’t hookup in this but it’s talked about quite a bit so proceed with caution loves. gimme feed back pls!!!! Lmk if you’d want a pt 2!!!

“i can't fucking do this, y/n. We have a lot of work left to do on this case.” I say getting out of my seat and walking towards the office door. It’s just too much right now. We’ve gotten nowhere close to finding this god awful unsub. Then here is y/n smelling like cocoanut and vanilla. Looking at me… no searching my eyes for answers I don’t have. And her hair? God. It’s down. Unlike most days where she wears it pulled back.

“Spencer! What the fuck? You told me if i needed to confied or talk to someone to go to you? If thats no longer okay then just tell me. You don’t have to talk to me like this.” She says getting out of their chair and stepping in my path to the door.

Shes right. I am being a complete an total ass right now. It’s not her fault. When she started last year I did tell her to come to me and she has taken me up on that offer lots of times and I've never minded it. I don't mind it. At Least I didn’t before… I look down defeated and sigh before looking at her. “You’re right. I apologize. Please, excuse me.” I take a step to the door.

“Reid…” She grabbed my arm looking up at me. “Please. What’s going on?”

I jerked off and came multiple times to your secret twitter account, y/n. I have your body engraved into my brain. I know exactly what i’d have to do, where to touch, how to touch, where to lick and suck now from watching the videos of you playing with yourself. I cant look at you let alone work with you, without wanting to take you into an empty office and showing you all the many things about your perfect fucking body I have learned and memorize. God even now during this stressful case all I can think of is fucking you so hard over this table that you cant remember what you came in here to ask for in the first place. But I can’t say that.

“I’m… fine. Okay? Many daily things in our lives especially in this field can cause irritability, for example: we’ve been on this case for 48 hours, we’ve gotten nowhere close to a profile, no idea how to stop this unsub, exactly how many victims he has so far, which means there's gonna be more innocent people dying. So, if I'm irritable that may be the reason. Now if you excuse me i need to go look the files we found on Amy Cassandra and Olivia Hidmen.” And with that, she let me go and I made my way out.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long week we are finally back home. I avoided y/n as much as I could which is the only way to deal with this until I can figure out how to move on. Then of course… once we get home going out to “split” the teams favorite local bar was suggested. We all agreed to meet up in an hour, giving ourselves time to go home and get ready.

I was sitting at our usual table with Derek and Emily when y/n walked in talking with Hotch. Fuck. me. She was wearing a short, silk, black dress that was hugging her body perfectly. Her hair was down framing her face perfectly and she was wearing her glasses. Last time i saw her glasses, they were on her bed side table in the background of the video she posted, showing off her new toys a sex toy company sent her. My thoughts are interrupted by her looking at me. I can't. I turn to Emily and Derek asking to be excused before walking past y/n and out the bars glass doors.

She’s your coworker, spencer. Not only is she a coworker, shes damn near 10 years younger than you, sees you as a mentor, and trusts you. What the fuck have I done.

“Reid!” i hear yelled from behind me.

No no no no… I turn to see her jogging towards me.

“y/n please go back inside.”

“No.”

“y/n…”

“Spencer, please stop.”

“No. y/n. You. please stop. Leave me alone and go back inside with the others…” I turn to walk away. After a few paces I hear:

“I saw.”

I pause in my tracks. Looking down at my feet. I’m fucked. I take a deep breath before turning and walking back to her. “You saw what?” I say looking down at her. My voice coming out deeper than intended.

“You liking and unliking one of my post on twitter.” She says softly and almost unsure.

I dont break eye contact. I’m frozen. What am i suppose to say to that?

“Spencer, please don’t tell anyone. I’m-”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t planning on talking to anyone about this.”

“Oh… okay…” A few more moments of silence. “I’m really really fucking sorry you saw that, no one i know in person was ever meant to see it. I just do it for fun and…”

‘I cant be having this conversation right now.’ i think to myself as she continues to ramble. “y/n. Stop.”

“... i know youre probably mortified…” she continues.

“Stop.”

“... I just dont wanna lose you-”

“y/n!’ I say louder than intended as i grab her shoulders trying to get her to listen to me. Shes staring wide eyed at me, silent. I losen my grip and lead her to a near by empty stairwell. I let her go and brush her hair off her shoulders and try to straighten the straps of her dress that was underneath my hands.

“Now…” i start calmly. I see her relax more and start looking at me with curiosity. “y/n, you have no reason to be apologoizing to me. You-” i stop myself to think before i let more rambling come out of my mouth. “I should be the one apologizing to you.” I say taking a step back attempting to give her some space.

“For what?” She asked genuinely.

“For invading your privacy. I saw your account and I was intrigued then after a few moments of analizing i realized it was you. I shouldve clicked away immediately but I didn’t, I kept scrolling and looking and I’m so sorry, y/n. You’re an amazing person, agent, and friend and I’m someone you trusted and i-”

“Did you like them?” she asked bluntly looking up at me.

Spencer. Stop. you cannot entertain this.

“Yes.” I answered searching her eyes for any signs of regret or disgust.

None to be found.

She takes a step closer to me making our hight difference extremely noticeable. “Spencer,” she started softly. The sound of my name on her lips going straight to my cock. “Did you touch yourself to me?”

“I did.”

She searches my face almost the same way i did hers moments ago before she yanks me into her by my tie our lips meeting and her pulling away before I could even register what happened. I look at her as if asking if she's sure she wants this before we quickly grab each other crashing our lips together again. Our bodies moving together and our mouths hungry.

“Fuck, I need you closer.” I moan into our kiss before softly pushing her against the wall of the stairwell. My hands roaming her body until they find their way to her beautiful thighs. I yank one of her legs up by her knee taking the opportunity to get my body closer to her. I can feel her hot core against my aching cock. My hands now resting on her ass and I leave kisses along her neck.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you to touch me like this for so long, Spencer.” She moans softly into my hair.

“Is that so?” I ask, looking up at her as I slowly drop down to my knees.

“Oh my god.” She whispers as she realizes my intentions for getting down here.

‘She’s definitely gonna believe in a god when i'm done with her.’ I think to myself as I start leaving kisses along her thighs.

“Y/n??”

We jump at Penelope’s voice we hear from around the corner. FUCK.

I immediately get back up and look at her attempting to straighten her dress and hair up. “We’re just having a conversation. Okay?” I whisper to her searching her eyes trying to keep her calm

“Okay.” She whispers back.

I nod as I take a seat on the steps crossing my arms over my knees in an attempt to hide my boner from Penelope.

“Oh my god! There you two are!” Penelope said relieved once she saw us. “Is everything okay with my two favorite nerds?”

“Yeah, just kinda debriefing the past week. It was a lot for me.” Y/n spoke up.

“Awwww okay pumpkin. If you need to take time to yourself it’s okay, everyone would understand.” She said as she pulled y/n into a hug.

“Yeah that’s probably what i'm gonna do. I need to decompress.” Y/n says in response, hugging our friend back.

“Okay baby cakes.” Garcia responded by pulling away. “What about you, my handsome wonder boy? You okay?”

“Yeah i'm good. Just got a bit overwhelmed. I’ll probably head home as well.” I say in response looking up at her from my seat on the stairs.

“Okay then my loves. I’ll go let them know.” She says as she starts to back up. “Reid, be a gentleman and make sure our sweet y/n gets home safe.” She turns and sends a winks to y/n before turning and making her way back to the bar.

“You um… maybe wanna come over and talk about everything?” I ask looking back to the beautiful woman I had in my arms moments ago.

“I would like that.”

[tetragonia]

A Wave of Feelings

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

Blurb: Rafe and (Y/N) got into an argument for God knows how many times, about literally anything when they breath the same air, ranging from a small accident to a heated one about their cultural beliefs. But something in the air was different this time. Or was it only in the air? Not something in their heart and mind when the two of you finally realize something big that could change your lives?

Note: I have always wanted to write an angst especially for this character and it has occurred to me one day that arguing/miscommunication plot is kind of my fave trope so here we are lol.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, argument, bad writing lol English isn't my first language. also, soft!Rafe in the end!

Words: 1490

The sun hung low over the Outer Banks as Rafe Cameron and you found yourself embroiled in yet another heated argument. This was clearly not the first time you both got into an argument. Some of them were heavy like that one time when your best friend asked you to go to the party just to talk to Rafe (which she did) but then he dumped her after the party and she cried for weeks on your shoulder, or some Kook-owned properties that limited your access, or some insulting banter between Rafe and your friends (that got you realized how much he hated JJ).

But most of the time it was just about silly things: when he knocked up your beer accidentally, when you sailed in front of him and accidentally splashed some water (it didn't even make his already oily hair wet), or when you were napping in a near beach and he claimed that it was his territory (he was in the Cut area, for God's sake!). You two always found a way to argue.

This time, your voices clashed like crashing waves, echoing off the walls of the old shipwreck where you had sought refuge.

"You're impossible, Rafe! Always acting like you own this place, roaming around thinking that you're so much better than us Pogues," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. Pogues always owned this place, not some rich snobby kids like him, you thought.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his temper flaring and pride wounded. He hissed, "Maybe if you Pogues have some ambitions, you wouldn't be stuck in the same place your whole life!"

Oh, this was definitely one of those heavy arguments.

Your fists clenched at your sides as took a step forward. Your voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea what it's like to struggle, Rafe. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

For a moment, you needed to convince yourself that you saw Rafe's gaze softened. You wanted to believe that a flicker of remorse crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a defiant glare. "At least I don't have to scrape by just to survive. Maybe if you Pogues worked harder, you'd actually amount to something."

His words struck deep, a painful reminder of the challenges you and your community faced every day. You recoiled as if struck by a lightning, your eyes stinging with unshed tears and your face was red, "You don't know anything about me, Rafe. You don't know what I've been through."

Your argument drew the attention of Sarah who was nearby with John. She was one of your best friends and you felt nothing but pity every time you realized that she shared the same blood with Rafe. With a furrowed brow, she stepped between you two, her hands raised in a gesture of peace trying to calm you down.

"Hey, what's going on here? Can't you two go five minutes without arguing?" Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with concern and annoyance. She must be tired with all these arguments, you thought. But those were all about Rafe's incapability to control his temper! And that might or might not be your issue as well...

Rafe shot you a scorching glare before turning his attention to Sarah. "Stay out of this, Sarah. This doesn't concern you."

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you stepped forward beside Sarah. "You're the one who concerns everyone with your existence!"

"What did you say to her, Rafe?!" Sarah looked at you with a concern. You were one of her strongest friends and she rarely saw you tremble like this. "Come on, talk it out like an adult, will ya!"

Rafe's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. "Talk? What's there to talk about? I said, stay out of this, Sarah."

His gaze turned to you, "You think you know everything, (Y/N). Being the weaker one of the community, blaming us for having some money. If you said that I don't know anything about you, then you also don't know anything about me!"

His words cut like a blade across your pain. Your expression softened, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes and you were not sure whether Rafe realize that or not. "Let's just cut it out. You would never understand what I've been through. What we have been through. Let's go, Sarah. Let's get out of here."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing concern, her heart aching for her brother and her best friend. She knew there was something deeper at play here, something that neither of them wanted to admit.

"Come on, you two. Let's take a step back and calm down, especially you, Rafe," Sarah suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. She glared at his brother. His face was as red as you, his forehead frowned deep.

You and Rafe exchanged a wary glance before reluctantly exhaled a deep breath. As much as you hate him, as much as you didn't want to admit, you really want him to apologize. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

Sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "Look, I know things have been tense lately, but I really can't bear another sight of you guys bicker over things. If you still want to do that, please not where I can see you. I need you two to be in your best behavior when I'm around. Especially with you, Rafe. I have enough of you already."

Rafe's gaze softened as he looked at his sister, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "You're right, Sarah. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Sarah still held her concern, but she relieved to see them finally finding common ground. "It's okay. Now I'll leave it up to you. I can't mom you around like this, geez."

She walked away from you both. She lived long enough with both you and Rafe and there was no way she did not realized that beneath the surface, there was a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born from unspoken feelings and unacknowledged desires.

You stood still, refused to meet his gaze. The wind blew your hair as the sun began to set. You started to feel the chill and instinctively hug your own body, fixing your shirt together. You accidently drew a sharp breath when a cold wind sent chills down your spine. You sniffed and looked over the horizon. Refusing to take even the tiniest glance at him, you kept looking at the sea while stroking your upper arm.

Despite the heat of your argument, Rafe couldn't ignore the way the cold seemed to seep into your bones, making you appeared small and vulnerable against the vast expanse of the beach. His heart ached at this view.

You didn't see that he wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around you and shield her from the biting wind; his hesitation to offer you warmth and comfort in the midst of your argument.

But his pride held him back, a barrier he had built long ago to protect himself from vulnerability and pain. Yet now, standing on the windswept beach with you before him, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "(Y/N), I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Rafe's apology, your anger momentarily forgotten as she regarded him with cautious curiosity. You had expected him to be stubborn, to be the usual Rafe: to dig in his heels and refuse to back down. But instead, here he was, standing before you with such humility you'd never seen before.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the shore. And then, slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Thank you."

And with that, Rafe's resolve crumbled completely. Ignoring the voice of doubt in his mind, he opened his arms and pulled you into a tight embrace, provided you with the warmth of his body against yours. He could feel the softness of your hair against his cheek and he kissed your head softly it almost gave you a heart attack.

So you were not hallucinating all this time. The glances, the gestures, the underlying concern for her.... He felt the same way, too.

In that moment, with the cold wind whipping around them, you knew that he had finally acknowledged his feelings for you. And as you stood together on the windswept beach, you both vowed to never let your pride stand in the way of your connection again.

[freyito]

i read the umm boothil vidaharyda (i dunno if im spellung that right) peice you did and and HOTBJF FNF ABABABJGHYTUFHFHR?!!!!!!!!!!!! that was AMAZING!! if you did a part two it would be like, really cool!! i love the way you write sm 🫰

✭ pairing(s): boothill x male vidyadhara reader

✧ a/n: im glad you enjoyed my writing anon... i apologizing for being several months late... ahaha... ANYWAYS! i think this is a nice break from blue veins two... just some good ol fluff :P... it's also been so long since i've written for male reader it feels like @_@

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: male reader, vidyadhara reader, itty bit of lore building (made the vidyadhara look a little more like the yan siblings from arknights), hey you guys are married now!, lots more fluff. cause i said so., he's a little clingy, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.9k

[i , ii]

ꜱᴄᴀʟᴇꜱ & ᴍᴇᴛᴀʟ ; ii

Well, where did the time go? Suddenly, you find yourself lounging on Boothill’s ship, face down on a couch, as his fingers scratch at your scalp. Your tail wags shamelessly in the air as he hums, some tune he had picked up in his youth. Needless to say, you are content beyond relief right now. It had been a couple years since Boothill had first asked you out, and now what you are left with is bi-monthly ‘vacations’, and a pretty little ring on your finger.

Safe n’ sound in the vast expanse of space, stuck with a Galaxy Ranger that had vowed to keep you safe, love you with every single part of his being, bolts and all. It’s something he echoes near every day, even when he is several star systems apart from you. A normal day at the Skyfaring Commission for you could be a wild chase for Boothill, running from bounty hunters, taunting them anyway he can. While you worried over him to the point of running yourself ragged, he had always found his way back to you.

He spoiled you rotten, with every breath he took, every step he tracked, you were pampered. He was much like a penguin, bringing you rocks from whichever planet he had visited. Not just rocks, but all sorts of trinkets. He’d bring you food if he could, because he’s just so in love with the way your face lights up when you taste something new. The way your tail wags furiously, while you speak so fast you run out of breath.

He’s found that he quite enjoys living through you. He can eat, sure, but he can’t taste it. So to watch you enjoy new cuisine with such enthusiasm (or even the same food you’ve been eating since you first could), it brings him an odd sense of peace. That being said, dinner dates are always on the schedule. It’s more of him watching you with a lovestruck look on his face while you eat.

Little dates like that have been quite common ever since he first asked you out. And before, of course. The only difference is they are more frequent. No matter how far he had been, across the star system or on planets unknown, he has always found a way to show up after your shift, or sweep you away to his ship.

All of this, of course, leads back to the current moment. Tucked away in your own little slice of heaven, reading some fantastical mythologically inclined story, while Boothill pets you as if you were a lap dog. He does his best to steer clear of your horns, though you know he won’t for long. Regardless, in his eyes, you are simply so cute like this, all docile and happy. The way your tail waves with every pet, or wags faster when he nears your horns.

“Darlin’...” He whispers, the pet name falling from his lips languidly.

You don’t look up from your book, but acknowledge him with a soft ‘hm?’ nonetheless. You haven’t found a spot to pause, too deep into the page, and the next page didn’t start with the start of a sentence. You’d lose your place too easily!

Boothill, however, wasn’t happy with such simple acknowledgement.

“Heyyy, darlin’...” He drawls in a sing-song tone, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. “Look at me, pretty please?”

“One more moment,” You mutter, unphased.

He isn’t happy with that answer either. He slides his hand under your chip, cupping your face and tilting your head up. Your eyes track your book as much as they can, before inevitably meeting Boothill’s. He gives you a crooked smile when you make eye contact, batting his eyelashes like he didn’t do anything.

“There you are…” He purrs, low and sultry, his other hand continuing to pet at your hair. “Listen, I was thinkin’ we go do somethin’ real fancy.”

“For what occasion?” You cock your head to the side. You did your best to swallow whatever annoyance you had, as much as you were into the book, there was no need to point it out. Boothill would’ve gotten his way one way or another.

“I dunno. ‘Cause I wanna,” He shrugs, “I’m thinkin’ of takin’ you somewhere, maybe The Capital of Passion, maybe New Bethelhem. Somewhere nice n’ romantic. I’d take you out for one of the classics; dinner and a show. See if there’s somewhere showing one of those cheesy romance movies you like so much, eh?”

As he speaks, he leans down a little, pulling you closer. In the end, you shuffled up with a blush, huffing softly and turning your head away from him. You know what he’s doing, lingering a little too long, his eyes following your every little move. He either seeks to fluster you still, with simply asking you out on a date, or he’s scheming. The second thing makes you shiver slightly.

“I haven’t seen somethin’ like that in a long time, y’know, it’d be nice to enjoy somethin’ all quiet and peaceful like. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

“... What are you up to?”

“Nothin’ sugar! Ah, that’s hurtful, you know! Always thinkin’ im up to no good,” Boothill shakes his head with a mock-disappointed look. “Can’t a man share his ideas?”

You sigh, doing your best to calm down your own bashfulness, as he shuffles closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close. With a soft sigh, he closes his eyes. His smile drops for a second, and that leaves an odd ache in your gut. When have you not seen him smile? But that worry is quickly washed away when he opens his eye, that familiar sparkle twinkling in his eye.

“I just wanna treat you good, yeah? I dunno… I don’t think I’ve gotten the chance to take you somewhere nice…” His voice wavers. Meanwhile, you’re trying to wrap your head around it. He’s taken such good care of you, so where did this come from? “When was the last time we had a date where you could get all dolled up and we’d have a night out on the town, hm…?”

“Well…” You do your best to recall, but you can’t necessarily remember. Mainly because he’s taken you on so many dates, it all tends to get lost in the mix.

“Exactly! That’s why I’m thinkin’ I ought to start acting like a gentleman.”

That statement makes you tilt your head in confusion. A gentleman? He was already one, really. He just hadn’t lost his roguish charm. He treated you so well and kind, showered you with gifts, compliments, and praises, and here he was saying he should act like a gentleman?

“Boothill… what do you mean by that?”

“I wanna settle down. For you, ‘n all.”

“SETTLE DOWN!?” You can’t help but raise your voice in shock. Your tail starts flicking ferociously, trying to make sense of what he had said. It was clear enough, but for the Boothill to say he wants to settle down? Ah. He must be insane. Something must’ve gotten into one of his neurochips and infected his system. That must be it.

“Woah there cowboy–”

Before he gets the chance to explain his reasoning, you pounce on him. You press the back of your hand to his forehead to check if he was running hot (like he could get a fever…), then stare into his eye for a moment, before lifting his upper lip with your thumb, before forcing the man to open his mouth. Well, how were you supposed to check a cyborg for any symptoms of a virus? You didn’t know. But his mouth seemed normal, his gums seemed normal, all seemed well. He chuckles as you shuffle down and press your ear to his chest, to see if his fans were kicking into overdrive. There was no sound out of the ordinary, the subtle humming of his fans and system working as intended.

Slowly, his hands fall to your shoulders as he pushes you up off of him. He lays beneath you with a soft smile, while you stare down at him, tail swishing like a predator ready to pounce. You still can’t get over it, there’s no way he’d say such a thing. He was spontaneous, if he stayed in one place for more than two weeks, he’d get antsy! Not to mention, he was wanted. He couldn’t really stay in one place regardless, even in some place as heavily guarded as the Loufu. Besides, you were happy as is! Married, with a stunning boyfriend to boot, who loved you like no other… even the thought of settling down with him seemed outlandish.

“Is it really such an insane idea? Think about it sweetpea,” He shrugs, maintaining eye contact. “Nice little corner of the universe to call our own. I’d make a good, honest livin’, tendin’ a little farm and what not.”

You give him another perturbed look, one that borders on disgusted.

Nicer light? What a joke, you think. You’ve seen him when he’s as dashing as ever, running from bounty hunters who had tracked him down on one of your little moonlit evenings. The way he looks just stunning no matter what, whether it be when he’s delivering some of your favorite food to you, or when he’s dragged you to his favorite shooting spot. The way the sunlight had always hit him just perfectly, the way his smile shines oh so bright, the way those eyes charm you to even do the simplest of things when he’s ‘too tired’.

Before you can retort, his chuckle turns into a deep laugh, hands falling to your sides.

“You believed me, huh?” He laughs, doing his best to shuffle out of your ireful gaze. “Was I that convincin’?”

Ah. He was playing around. Good. Still, that doesn't stop you from scolding him. You reach up and pinch his cheeks, earning a groan from him as he tries to wrench free from your grip.

“Where did that come from!?” You pitch, making sure he stays beneath you. “That’s scary you know! Suddenly jumping to a conclusion like that! Especially when you’re wanted!”

“Hey now!” Boothill protests. But you shut him up quick, leaving his cheeks and landing a couple of playful punches to his chestplate. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere– or, I guess I should– stop that!”

Before you have time to react, he’s reached up and grabbed one of your horns, causing you to yelp at the way it made you feel. The cold steel against your wonderful horns sending a white hot jolt of shock and something else, the feeling akin to when you’d bump your funny bone into something.

“Waha!” You whine, falling dramatically limp in his arms.

“Awh, now, I didn’t mean to do that baby,” He coos sarcastically, before turning to run his hand once more through your hair. “It was a joke, is all… can’t blame a man for having fun, can you? I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

When you look up at him, he’s pouting like you had truly scolded him for something so nonsensical, before it turns into a cheeky grin. One that said ‘I didn’t really do wrong…’. You’d fight back, speak your mind, but not when he’s so close to your weakness. With a huff, you stay in his arms, cheek pressed against his chest as he hums, idling running his fingers through your hair once more. What a scare he had given you, and now he gets to act all normal while you reap the consequences..

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